


Blood is Thicker, Baby - A Collection of Answered Requests

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blowjobs, Drabble Collection, Fighting, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Negan Being Negan, Rimming, Smut, Sub!Negan, am i allowed to do this, answers from tumblr, filthy dirty borderline pornographic fighting, more to come lol, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9624485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: So I've recently started taking oneshot/drabble requests on Tumblr, and this place has quite literally become an important location for me to keep all my works, as my laptop threatens to keel over and die any day. It's just so much more organized than anywhere else, haha.If you would like to make a request, my Tumblr is http://neganstonguething.tumblr.com :)That said, this particular entry is just an archive of all the requests I've answered for people thus far. Each 'chapter' will be a new answered request, so there will be no real chronology to any of it.I might take this down if it doesn't work out like I want it to, but I figured it'd be easier to keep it all in one thing than to post each request separately, as they're not as long as my actual fics.  Anywho, to those of you who read them, enjoy!





	1. The Devil Has Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> So the first entry was requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr. They asked for prostitute Rick. I've honestly never entertained the idea of a prostitute idea for anything, so this was completely new territory to me. Hope it didn't come across as such, lol. 
> 
> It's pretty straightforward stuff, though. Enjoy!

The devil has blue eyes. He's slow and deliberate as he moves, and his tongue is hot like fire on his victim's throat. His fingers are freezing and burning at the same time as they graze against the skin beneath his shirt. The devil's breath is sinfully warm and raises steam-induced goosebumps on his prey's flesh.

The devil is in Negan's lap.

He goes by Rick. He's working Negan's shirt up over his head, and when he does, Negan catches sight of his eyes just in time to see those sharp blues scraping their way up and down his chest. The devil inhales sharply, and then exhales.

“You sure about this, Rick?” Negan questions, and he knows he probably looks like he's in no place to be asking such a question. He can hardly see through the fog of arousal in own his vision, and his neck and ears are flushed from the scrape of Rick's beard on his skin. He wants this guy in the most sinful of ways right now, but damn if he isn't a little hung up on the fact that the man's asking for payment for it. “I can think of a whole fuckton of other methods of putting food on the table, y'know.”

Thing is, he's fully willing to pay the guy for this. He just wants to make sure the consent is mutual, and the fact that Rick had gotten money for this isn't going to haunt the poor sap for the next, well, rest of his fucking life.

The devil takes one of Negan's nipples into his mouth, and he hisses and damn near swallows his words right then and there. He braves a glance down at the man before him, and his breath catches in his throat. Rick's tongue is out, trailing down his chest, to his abdomen, where he catches a part of Negan's skin in his teeth and bites down _just right_. The devil apparently enjoys leaving marks, and Negan likes it when he does.

As Rick drops lower, Negan feels the overpowering heat and pressure of the man's clothed cock brushing up against his leg. He looks up, almost through his eyebrows, at Negan. “...That tell you anything? You might be payin' me for this, but that's not a 'we both can't have fun' stamp. I have a choice here, and I'm makin' it.”

Rick's head tilts up fully to look at Negan, and he can't help the deep chuckle that escapes his lips as he nibbles thoughtfully at the tip of his tongue. “You know what? You're goddamn right.” He lowers a hand to the other man's hair, trailing his fingers through the slightly sweaty curls. “I'd be a massive, festering dumbshit to try and argue with some righteous motherfucking logic like that.”

“That's right.” Rick works open Negan's belt buckle and starts on the button to his jeans.

Rick works quickly from here, but not impatiently. Negan likes watching the other man pull his half-hard erection out of his pants, and he swallows pleasantly as Rick's fingers graze the underside of his cock. His tongue flicks out and teases the tip, and Negan can practically feel himself spring to life in his grip. God, he feels so good, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. The anticipation kills Negan, and it's surprising because it's not like Rick is taking forever.

Speaking of moving fast, Rick's got the entire tip of Negan's cock in his mouth now, and he's not stopping there. It doesn't take long for him to be taking in more of him, and the entire time the fucker does it, he's staring up at Negan for approval.

Oh hell yes, baby, you can have your approval.

“Shit, Rick...” Negan's smirk widens as he exhales the words. That little fucking devil is still staring up at him, even as Negan's dick disappears practically down his throat repeatedly. “Do you like skull-fucking yourself on me like that? It's like you were born for this shit. You're—fuck—gonna earn yourself a repeat customer here real fast.”

Rick's silent as he works, though, bobbing dutifully up and down on Negan's cock like he's making fucking bank doing so, and it occurs to Negan that they'd never agreed on an amount. Shit, this guy really had wanted to do this, hadn't he?

Either way, the guy—the devil—knows what he's doing. He's basically swallowing Negan's cock, which is impressive if he does say so, himself. Negan smirks praisingly down at him as his grip on Rick's hair tightens and he pulls him down onto him a little. “You really like that, don't you?” Hell, Rick could suck him off any day of the week. “Mouth like that, you ought to be making fucking bank.”

And then he goes silent, because Rick suddenly _swallows_ , and there's a strange pleasure in that, and Negan's suddenly aware of how close he is. And then he's finishing, and Rick's _still_ going, even as he climaxes right into the man's mouth and his grip is tight and unrelenting on the man's hair.

Negan's momentarily spent, and his head falls back onto the backrest of his seat. His fingers slacken from Rick's hair as he closes his eyes for a few seconds and just lets the afterglow sink in. The haze in his vision is still there, and Negan thinks that if Rick gives him a bit, he might be ready for more.

He looks down just in time to see Rick's tongue dart out to swipe away some extra spunk from the corner of his mouth, and then he wipes the spit from his lips with the back of his hand. He's still at his knees in front of Negan, as he folds his arms up and rests them on the other man's thighs. Those devilish blue eyes have yet to leave his.

“C'mere.” Negan urges, and Rick is quick to obey. He likes the way those eyes _still_ don't leave his own as he slinks his way up and crawls into Negan's lap. “M'not through, yet.” His hand finds Rick's chin and he pulls him in for a kiss. It surprises him how quickly the other man reciprocates, with his head tipping and his lips falling open. Their tongues slide together fluidly, and Negan moans when he realizes he can taste himself as he melts shamelessly into the kiss.

Rick's arms are sliding around his shoulders, and Negan laughs into the kiss. “Fuck yeah, that's right, baby. I'm gonna show you a good time, too.” He swears he hears Rick's breath hitch, and as his fingers slide down into the front of the other man's pants, all Negan can think about is the fact that in the Bible, the devil was a fallen angel.

He can totally see that, now.

 


	2. Public Indecency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone sent me an ask on tumblr that said "Give me Rick getting a handy j from Negan at a restaurant or give me death!" and this is what happened. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Really, Negan? _Really_?

There are a lot of things to take into consideration here. Like how they're very obviously in public, at one of those super fancy digs where pristine white tablecloths cover circular tables and there's the faint tinkle of piano music being played by an actual person on a stage at the front of the building. Or how said fancy restaurant is booked to the max with people. People with actual _eyes_ , because that's important right now. Also, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Morgan, Michonne, and Tara are here, at the same table as Rick and Negan. That's a lot of people to bear witness to anything, y'know, illegal going on.

Like public indecency, which is exactly what is happening right now. Everyone else is chattering happily among one another, wearing their nice clothes and sipping their expensive wine while they await their food. And while everyone else is having a jolly good time, Rick's trying not to look like someone who just sat on their nuts bare-assed in a sauna. Pardon Rick's mental french, but it's seriously that bad right now.

It doesn't hurt, though. It feels good. Negan's got his palm splayed out about halfway up Rick's leg, and as he converses along with everyone else, his fingertips are kneading out a nice little rhythm on Rick's clothed inner thigh, trailing agonizingly slowly closer to the crotch in a way that sends sparks of electricity ripping up and down his spine, and settling right in his groin.

The thing is, it feels _too_ good, and Rick knows what's to come. Negan's a big tease, and this is all part of his game. He likes to make his partner squirm, and he thrives on testing them in virtually every situation. No, that's not an exaggeration. Rick is serious when he says _every_ situation. This isn't the first time he's found some way to make Rick look like a mess in front of his friends, and he's sure they're aware of it on some level.

That's where the discomfort comes from. That sitting-on-your-balls-in-a-hot-room feeling stems from Rick trying to get himself into a mindset where he _doesn't_ look like Negan's feeling him up in the middle of a public place, because the last thing he wants is the cops called on him when he _is_ a cop. For Christ's sake, Negan.

Like he always does, Rick swears he's never taking his boyfriend out into public again. Never again, really. This time, he means it. Negan doesn't seem to think so, though, as he casts the most curious of smiles Rick's way, and then nods to Tara.

“Did you hear that, Rick?” Negan's voice is deep and smooth and heavy, like Crown Royal straight from the flask, and had Rick not been so occupied trying to look like a normal human right now, he might have succumbed to the temptation to kiss it straight from the guy's lungs. “Tara here just announced she got a new job at the precinct. You two're gonna be coworkers.”

“Really?” Rick manages, and he even conjures up a legitimate smile to offer her way, despite the fact that Negan's palm is dangerously high up between his legs at this point. “That's great. What're you gonna be doin'?”

“I'll be in Processing.” Tara answers, blissfully unaware of Negan's assault. Because that's exactly what it is. Assault. And Rick seriously wants to tell Negan just how under arrest he is right now, but he can't, because the other man's hand is suddenly on his clothed erection, palming shamelessly, and Rick honestly fears what noise is going to come out of his mouth if he dares to open it.

It takes a good few seconds before Rick can manage a response, and he prays to whatever the hell will listen that the heat creeping up along his face and ears isn't showing on the outside. Tara seems none-the-wiser, at least. So far. “Awesome. So I'll definitely see you around the station, then.”

“Yep, correct-a-mundo.” Tara winks, and then laughs nervously when she realizes she'd just said 'correct-a-mundo'. The rest of the group chortles along, except for Rick, because Negan is now fumbling with the button of his pants, and how does he do this shit without getting caught!?

When Negan slides his hand into the front of Rick's pants, he's lucky because Maggie and Tara are now engaged in conversation and everyone else is mostly focused on them. Rick figures he can get away with leaning forward to prop his elbow on the table and rest his mouth on his fist, just in case any stray moans try to work their way up and out of his throat.

He knows Negan isn't going to let him get away with it that easily, though. Nope, he's still got Rick caught up in his game, and it's his turn to go.

“So, Rick.” He starts, just as he curls his fingers around Rick's cock and starts stroking. His motions are slow and deliberate, so that he doesn't get caught in the act, and it's killing Rick right now, because he can't slug the shit out of the guy for no apparent reason. And if he does, his hard-on is just going to be hanging out there for everyone to see and question anyway. “What was that story you were telling me about Judith the other day? The one with the toilet?”

Rick hates Negan right now. He hates him so much. He's starting to think that if he's going to get arrested, maybe he should make it for something more awesome than public indecency—like jamming a fork into his thigh or something. Knowing Negan though, he wouldn't press charges. He'd just brag about how 'fucking awesome' his boyfriend is for thinking quickly enough to stab him with a fork.

That actually makes stabbing him sound like a great idea, so Rick pushes the thought quickly aside and instead focuses on the conversation at hand. He inhales slowly and sits back, allowing himself a quick moment of composure. It's not exactly clandestine, but this is a losing game anyway.

“Oh yeah, her potty training.” Rick muses, and thinking about it at least helps to calm his nerves somewhat. But he's not going to talk about that while Negan is jerking him off. No way in hell. “I'll tell you guys about tha...that later.” Damn it, Negan. “It's nothin' bad, just not really dinner table talk.” He shoots his boyfriend a glare.

Rick comes to a realization. It occurs to him that unless Negan plans on being even more of a tease than usual, the end result is going to be fairly messy if he does it _here,_ so he's got to figure out some way to avoid a disaster, which means getting from _here_ to the _bathroom_ , and also somehow prying his dick out of Negan's hand without making it look like he's fumbling around beneath the table all red-faced and mid-coital.

Basically, he's fucked.

“C'mon, Rick,” Maggie laughs, “I'm gonna be a mom. Gotta learn to handle this kinda talk over the table eventually, right?”

Rick can _feel_ the smirk on Negan's lips, and that's when he decides he's done. He slides his hands beneath the pretty white tablecloth, pretending to adjust the material the best he can (though it's not really convincing), and pries Negan's fingers off of him. It's painful, but he somehow manages to tuck himself back into his pants, and then he's standing up, smiling politely in Maggie's direction. “Alright, you sold me. Just...gimme a sec. All this bathroom talk, you know...”

As he walks off, he can hear Glenn laughing and questioning if he's okay, as well as Negan's voice telling them he'll go check on him.

 _Perfect_.

Rick spends the few seconds before Negan's arrival kicking open stall doors to make sure they're alone, and when Negan enters, Rick yanks him into the nearest one by the collar of his shirt. His own navigation skills impress him as he somehow gets the door shut before he slams Negan against one of the side walls and kisses him hard. He relishes in the way Negan inhales sharply, and the close proximity between their bodies tells him the other man had gotten himself a little worked up in the process.

“So here's the deal...” Rick growls into the kiss, as he works his own pants back open and lets them drop around his ankles. “You're gonna get on your knees, and you're gonna finish what you started.”

Negan chuckles against Rick's lips, and then he breaks the kiss to let his head roll back against the silvery metal of the stall. “Oh, so _you're_ the boss, then. What do I get out of this?”

Rick shrugs, and then backs up just enough that he can look his boyfriend in the eyes. “My dick in your mouth, Negan. And I'll think about makin' it up to you later.”

“Well, _that_ sounds like a peachy-fucking-keen offer right there.” Negan quips sarcastically. “I could just spin your candy ass around and fuck you right into this wall instead. Doesn't that sound like the best goddamn bathroom break out there?”

“Not enough time.” Rick answers, both urgently and honestly. His cock is aching something fierce right now, and there's no telling when someone else is going to show up, so Negan just needs to hurry up and get to it already. “We'll work somethin' out later, alright? Just... _c'mon..._ ”

He sees the gears turning in Negan's head—notices the slightly taller man is genuinely contemplating his offer—and then Negan laughs out loud. Rick claps a hand over his mouth. “ _Quiet_.” Public indecency, asshole.

“It's a little hard to suck your dick with my mouth covered.” Negan informs, his voice muffled against the palm of Rick's hand, and Rick jumps when he feels the heat and moisture of Negan's tongue on the skin there. He can bury his cock in the guy's mouth, but he licks his hand and Rick's ready to break out the hand sanitizer.

Either way, Negan drops and does exactly as he's asked, and god, it feels _good_. Negan's a pervert and a bit of a sex fiend, but Rick loves how dedicated he is to giving his partner plenty of enjoyment. It's probably a pride thing, but Rick doesn't mind. He just lets Negan go all-out until he has the good sheriff covering his mouth and stifling moans of his boyfriend's name.

Negan's even nice enough to let Rick finish in his mouth, which both feels amazing and eliminates a mess. Rick pulls away and looks down just in time to see Negan swallow and give him one of those sinful grins of his.

And then he can't help himself. He pulls Negan to his feet and starts working on the belt to his pants so that he can return the favor.

 


	3. Come Hell And High Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's had enough, and he's going to make damn sure Negan knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rickneganmorganlincoln on tumblr made a post: 
> 
> https://rickneganmorganlincoln.tumblr.com/post/157091989835/kinda-want-to-see-rick-and-negan-having-a-full-on
> 
> And I made a comment on it and the end result was me wanting to write it and a lot of other people wanting to see it written, so I caved and did so. Enjoy!

The rain comes down in thick sheets, drowning out the sounds of the world around it. The ground, once dry and dead in patches, is now laden with puddles and mud. The field is empty for the most part, save for a sole two occupants. The downpour silences their panting breaths as they stare one another down.

Rick's been smart about this whole thing. He's kept his mouth shut and dutifully obeyed every little request Negan has given him. He's listened to the people of Alexandria bitch about it, and it irks him, because nobody realizes more than he does how hard it is to do this. Like they think Rick actually wants to watch greater than or equal to half of his supplies being loaded up into one of Negan's big trucks. As if they think he's okay with the fun Negan pokes at their situation, or how he repeatedly stuffs his apparent power over them down their throats.

He's been at his limit for far longer than he can remember. Fantasies of bashing Negan's skull in with his own baseball bat have plagued him since that first visit the asshole had made to Alexandria. Rick's been thinking and planning and _loathing_ for weeks, now. But Negan's always got himself protected. He makes sure to keep himself surrounded by Saviors, even if he's got them hiding in the woodwork. No move seems good enough, and Rick won't put it past him to kill every last resident of Alexandria if he pisses him off by trying to turn on him.

 _Turn_ on him. How laughable, because Rick doesn't remember a time when he's ever actually been on this guy's side.

The breaking point that has them standing in this field, bleeding and gasping and staring one another down, came when Negan decided it'd be smart to take Rick out on a run with him. Something about wanting to see just how closely he searches for things, revisiting paths Rick has gone on before in hopes of finding something he missed and inevitably being a giant dick about it in the end.

The setting is an old paper mill twenty or so miles out from Alexandria. It's the only structure for miles, and it's located on a massive plot of open land that's surrounded in the distance by trees. Negan spent the entire search running his mouth, nagging and prodding and pushing like he always does, and when they came out empty (because Rick's searched here before and _knows_ how to conduct a run, thank you), the bitching only grew more incessant.

It started with Rick stopping a hundred or so feet outside of the mill and just dropping Lucille from his grip. He still doesn't know what clicked in him that made him decide to use his fists, but he does know that stopping Negan is going to feel so much better done by his own hands.

At that point, it was a slippery slope. From Negan questioning just what the _fuck_ Rick thought he was doing in letting go of Lucille, all the way to Rick tackling him right in the muddy driveway, fists bundled tightly in the lapels of his that stupid damned jacket. He was the one to land the first blow, and the feeling of his jaw beneath Rick's fist is _still_ satisfying to think about.

Somewhere between Rick's relentless assault and Negan's desperate attempt to fight back, they've ended up back on their feet, just a couple of yards apart, where the rain is trying desperately to wash the muddy mess and blood off their shirts, but failing miserably. The only thing it's succeeded in is soaking them to the bone, to the point that Negan has shed his jacket and is now staring Rick down in just his white undershirt and dark pants.

Both their shirts cling to their body, completely drenched, and Rick can make out the shape of Negan's chest through the material. He's toned, and Rick somehow appreciates that the power he holds over so many thousands of people isn't born just on talk alone. If he's going to take this guy down, he wants to take _him_ down, not just his big mouth. It's that simple.

“Are you fucking _done_?” Negan growls out over the sound of the rain. “Because this is some real goddamned bullshit here, Rick.” He looks like hell, and Rick likes seeing him this way. He's got a split in the side of his lower lip, and blood runs from it freely. The cheek on that same side is swollen, and he's out of breath. The very top of his shirt is stained red from some free-running blood.

Rick probably doesn't look much better. His blue button-up is filthy with mud that he can actually smell on him, and the left side of his jaw aches fiercely from the hit Negan used to get him off of him and get back onto his feet. He really doesn't care, though. He wants to kill Negan—has promised to—but he isn't one hundred percent sure where this whole thing is going. Regardless, it's liberating. All the pent-up anger and tension and frustration comes out in moments like this, and Rick's not going to stop until either he can't move, or Negan can't.

Negan is stalking toward him now, moving to stand just inches in front of him, and Rick's glaring daggers right back up at him. “You should _not_ have done this.” He snarls, visibly upset. “Oh, you have no fucking clue what you just did to yourself and your people.”

Rick's eyes narrow. “This is between you and me. You leave them out of this.” They hadn't chose to swing at Negan, after all. But Rick knows that's not how Negan's punishments work. He gets his point across by targeting those Rick cares about. All the more reason for Rick to bludgeon him to a pulp.

Negan's reaction is so paced, and yet so rapid at the same time. His head crooks sideways, and Rick sees his eyebrows furrow up in perplexity, before there's suddenly a hand on his shoulder and a fist in his diaphragm.

Rick splutters and drops to his knees, struggling to catch his breath. He plants a hand on the muddy ground because he legitimately fears he might fall over onto the ground, and his free hand grips at the spot where Negan just hit him. He looks up just in time to see the other man squat in front of him.

“You know, I'm real fucking disappointed.” Negan says, elbows resting on his knees. “I thought of all people, _you_ were the one who got it—who understood that this is just the way things work now. I _like_ you, Rick. Why in the fuck would you try to ruin that?”

Rick narrows his eyes, and he's glad that he finally manages to get his air back. “Shut up.” His arms feel weak from the momentary lack of oxygen, but he still manages a good swing to the side of Negan's face.

This time, Negan reels backward and falls on his ass, before he rolls and quickly stumbles to his feet. Rick matches it by forcing himself up too, and he advances on Negan as fast as he can, swinging another punch that the taller man bows backward and dodges. But Rick's not done yet. He storms forward a few steps and punches Negan square in the nose. Blood flies almost instantly, spilling onto Rick's shirt as Negan stumbles back again. Rick tackles him to the ground once more.

Negan's caught somewhere between laughing and choking on the blood running down his throat, and Rick gives himself a moment of sick amusement at the sound. But only a moment, because soon, Negan's got him by the hair and is flipping him over onto the mud.

Rick feels a lot of things from here. He feels the heat of Negan's blood dripping onto his face and neck as it mingles with the cold of the rain still falling. He feels the mud and water soaking through the back of his shirt and mingling with his hair. And he feels the relentless barrage of punches Negan is throwing on him. Each one connects with his face, until Rick fumbles blindly with a hand and catches one of them, pushing it sideways. His vision blurs as he stares up at Negan, who is still laughing.

“I'm actually pretty fuckin' impressed!” Negan roars, spitting blood off to the side. “You had the balls to confront me, and the brains to do it when it's just you and me and this monster shitstorm of a downpour.”

Rick just wants Negan to _stop talking,_ but he keeps going anyway. He tries to manage another swing up in the other man's direction, but Negan pins his fist down and leans in close. His nose still hasn't stopped bleeding.

“I'm still trying to decide if I should be pissed or proud. You've both shocked me and crossed me, and what the fuck does a guy do with that!?”

This man is a monster. Rick hates him, he swears he hates him so damned much. It's satisfying to see him bleeding and laughing almost frantically, but he can't bear this. He needs Negan to _shut up_ , so he does the only thing he can think to right now. He propels himself up on sheer upper body strength and rams his forehead into Negan's.

The effect is blinding. Rick's vision is really swimming now, and he can only barely make out the dumbfounded way with which Negan's leaning back and staring around. For a moment, he doesn't look like himself, all doe-eyed and bewildered, and Rick takes advantage. Both fists are flying, hitting whatever he can reach—a shoulder, Negan's chest, his stomach, and his chin, even—and Negan succumbs, flopping onto his back.

“You don't get to talk to me like that.” Rick snarls, though it's not going to last long. He's still having trouble seeing straight, and he's understandably worn down from their brawl. Thankfully, Negan doesn't look much better. “You're not the boss right now.”

Everything's a blur at this point. Rick resumes his assault on Negan's face, and he takes some satisfaction in making a few lasting marks, but he's starting to realize that he's not going to be able to do much more. Negan apparently sees this too, because as Rick's body gives in and he collapses onto the ground next to him, he bursts out laughing all over again.

God _damn_ that laugh.

“Rick! Rick, Rick, Rick....” He chortles, and at least Rick can tell he's not doing much better in the strength department right now. “You never fail to surprise me! How do you _do_ it!?”

Rick feels the weight of Negan's body atop his, and hands on his throat. He opens his eyes enough that he can make out the blurry image of a deadpan stare down at him. The grip on his throat tightens, and he brings his hands up to Negan's wrists, attempting to pry them off. Unfortunately, he's all but useless now, so he's just stuck there, trying to take in even a small whisp of air.

And then Negan relents. His grip falters and he props himself up over Rick with one hand, the other grasping his jaw. He's panting, and Rick realizes they're both so pathetically spent that the fight is over, even though neither of them feel like it actually is. Negan's a mess, covered in blood and dirt and bruises, and his hair is soaked. Some of it has fallen out of place, and Rick finds he wants to bury his fingers in that hair and tear him off of him with the grip.

But he doesn't, mostly because he's shocked by the next ballsy move Negan has pulled. He's leaned down and planted a rough kiss on his lips, and when he pulls back, he's smirking. He points the finger of the hand once gripping his chin right at Rick's face.

“Don't _ever_ fucking pull a stunt like this again, Rick. I _won't_ let it slide next time.” He then pushes himself to his feet, and Rick watches as he collapses to his knees next to him. “Goddamn, we're fucked up.”

Rick laughs breathily. “Yeah, we are.”

“Rick.” Negan demands, flopping over onto his back.

Rick looks at him and scoffs. “..What?”

“Go pick Lucille up from where you so rudely dropped her.”

 


	4. 2 Ricks 1 Negan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan and Rick are on a run when an odd turn of events leads to Negan faced with the object of his wet dreams--two Ricks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The request this time was for Negan to somehow encounter a comic!Rick and realize that whoa, he has two of them to play with now. The requester didn't specifically ask for smut, but...oops.
> 
> I used comic!Rick from the All Out War arc, because he's my favorite. That said, he still has his long-ish hair and his knee is intact. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Fuck this house. Fuck its stupid floors for being too weak to support human weight, fuck its roof for having holes in it, and fuck the residents of it for not blowing their brains out and instead leaving their undead bodies roaming about and causing Negan to run and trip and fall through some stupid-ass goddamned piece of shit floor.

Had Negan been paying better attention, he'd have probably taken note of the massive hole in the ceiling of the house, a hole that went completely through the roof. Would've been helpful information, considering that when rain goes through a hole in the house, it tends to get the floor wet, and judging by the state of this house, it's probably been through many a rain since it got that hole. The water's soaked through and warped the floor and made it fragile and basically not suitable for human use anymore.

The end result is a Negan lying on his back on the ground after having fallen through the floor on the second level, swearing he should've broken something, but damn amazed that he's only feeling some minor soreness in his back and neck. There's no fucking way he should be that lucky, but you know what? He's not stuck here with a giant-ass injury, so he's just going to count his blessings and move the hell on like anyone with a brain stem would.

He sits up, rubbing at the back of his neck, and calls out for Rick. Taking the guy with him on runs has become something of a habit by now. Rick's gotten pretty used to it, too, and it's at the point now that Negan doesn't even bother bringing his Saviors into buildings with him. At present, they're waiting outside while he and Rick round up all they can find, and then they'll all work together to load the vehicles up. For now, everyone else is on Walker Patrol.

“...Yeah.” Negan hears Rick's voice off to the left, and he turns his head just in time to see the guy poke his head out of the kitchen doorway. He looks only mildly concerned when he sees the splintered wood surrounding a grounded Negan. His upward glance toward the new hole in the upper floor tells Negan he's already put the pieces together. A tiny smile pulls at his lips, and the Sanctuary leader finds himself really wanting to embed his fist in that pretty face for a look like that. “You, uh...you fall through that?”

“Nope, the hole was there when I got here.” Negan deadpans, voice drenched in sarcasm. “I just wondered what it'd feel like to jump through it. What the fuck's it look like, Rick? Use that big brain of yours—I know you've got more common sense than that.”

Rick shrugs, and then moves to Negan's side to offer his hand out. Negan takes it, and just as he gets to his feet, another voice reaches his ears.

“...Negan?”

Negan casts a glance at Rick, and then they both turn their heads toward the hallway that branches out from the living room. Standing in said hallway is a man who looks goddamned fucking almost _identical_ to Rick, save for the lack of curls in his hair and the fact that his right hand is missing, even down to the scar across his nose. He looks dumbfounded, and understandably so. How often do you run into something like this, after all?

“...and you are...?” Negan questions, eyebrows furrowed downward. “Not gonna lie, man, it's weird as fuck that you know my name before I know yours. I get that I'm a popular guy, what with my job and all, but I don't remember the slightest inkling of a fucking moment when you and your admittedly-badass-looking one-handed self crossed paths with me.”

The man frowns, and then it fades into a scowl. “That's gotta be your most pitiful joke yet, asshole. You know exactly who I am. You've spent the past month fucking with my people and I.”

Negan scratches the back of his neck and winces when his skin twinges with the pain of an impending bruise. “Nope, not ringing a bell. But in your defense, I fuck with a lot of people. What's your name, mystery man?”

“Is this a game?” The man swallows, and Negan sees the way his throat bobs as he does so. “If so, it's not a very fun one. You at least want to tell me where we are?”

Negan outright laughs. “You _definitely_ haven't fucking met me if you're not following orders, shit-for-brains. You kind of remind me of this guy, here. I had to break his ass before he started following me around like he is now. Isn't that right, Rick?” He turns his head to look at the aforementioned Rick, but it doesn't last long, because the other man has spoken up.

“... _Rick_?” The confusion in his voice has both Negan's and Rick's attention, and Negan watches this guy recoil under the joint stares from the two of them. He explains quickly enough, though, his feisty resolve breaking for just a moment. “Like Rick Grimes?”

Okay, so this guy knows both Rick _and_ Negan. Or, well, he knows Negan and knows _of_ Rick.

Either way, Rick answers. “...Yeah. And who're you?”

The man hesitates, clears his throat, and looks away. “...Rick Grimes.”

The room falls so silent that Negan's sure that they could just about hear a cockroach fart. He gawks at Rick, who is squinting at the man across the room in complete and utter confusion. Negan can't remember a time he's ever seen his accomplice look that lost for words, but he sure does now.

So Negan speaks up first. “Well, fuck everything, because it looks like we're officially contact high on the damn mold in this house or some shit.”

The other 'Rick' frowns, eyebrows furrowing down. “Look, I get that this is confusing as hell, but I know for sure I'm not some hallucination.”

“That _would_ be something a hallucination would say.” Negan comments dully, and this time, both of the apparent Ricks speak up.

“Shut up.” They say in unison, and Negan looks at them just in time to see their eyes meet. They both swallow nervously.

“I don't even know what to say.” Negan's Rick observes, shaking his head. “I've seen a lotta weird things in my life, but this...this makes me feel like I'm dreamin'.”

“Yeah.” The other Rick agrees, crossing his arms over his chest. “But it's so real. This house is cold, and you don't feel things like that in your dreams, right?”

Negan can see the similarities. He's still questioning if he's under the influence of some sort of hallucinogen, but regardless of what the situation is, these men really _are_ both the same person. Negan doesn't understand the circumstances, but...well, he isn't _mad_ about it.

Actually, as the seconds pass and the two Ricks connect with one another, Negan realizes he's actually pretty sweet on the idea of having both of them around. Rick's a badass—a certifiable, undeniable, unbelievable _badass_. And now, Negan's got two of them.

Ho-lee _shit_.

He interrupts right about the time the two men have met one another in the middle of the room. “Actually, high or not, this is fuck-me-straight-into-the-ground awesome.” Both Ricks regard him with the same exasperation and Negan just laughs. “I could pop the biggest fucking boner right now. I might be actually doing that.” He glances down, then juts his hips out teasingly. “Yep, I'm doing that.”

“Do you have one of those, too?” Negan's Rick questions, motioning with his thumb in Negan's direction.

“Yup.” The other Rick laughs. “He's just like this one too, except I've never seen him with facial hair.”

Even with the two men virtually ignoring and simultaneously talking about Negan, he's still fascinated. And the whole popping a boner thing isn't exactly untrue. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more he kind of wants to take advantage of this situation.

Okay, time to rewind for a second and offer some perspective into Negan's not-so-metaphorical boner. The thing is, Rick's always been a topic of interest for Negan. Even when the guy was on his knees when they first met, talking about how he was going to kill him, he'd been fascinating. And he never ceases to amaze. Even as he does exactly what Negan asks him to do (because he's one loyal motherfucker when it comes to his family and community), he's got that fire in his eyes. Even when he tries not to look at Negan in that bitter way, he's still glaring daggers at him. But he does what he's supposed to. He _gets shit done._

Lately, he's been less tense, as if being around Negan is starting to become commonplace. Admittedly, they've been working together a lot. Negan likes going on runs with him, because he likes having him around. And as of recently, he's starting to come to terms with the fact that he might just want to fuck him.

No, seriously. Negan lets Rick drive most of the time, and he watches him do so. Watches those blue eyes locked on the road, and that tired stare focused ahead. He scans the outline of Rick's profile in his clothing, and wonders just how the other man might react if he were to slide a hand over and just place it on his thigh. Every now and then, he makes a teasing pass at him, and he catches a look in Rick's eyes—something he can't quite place. Like maybe he's thinking about it, too, though Negan can never be too sure.

Sometimes, he wants to tell Rick that it'd be a good way to relieve the tension.

The two Ricks have now engaged in conversation about the other Rick's lack of a right hand when Negan decides to cut in again. He saunters over to the two men and slides an arm around either of their shoulders.

Yeah, he's going for it.

“Would you look at this?” Negan lilts, his gaze lingering on his Rick's, before he turns to meet the darker eyes of the other one. He wets his lips and sighs pleasantly. “You two are a real fuckin' vision in the distance, and then you get up close, and...well, let's just say you should get closer.”

His stare is back on the Rick he knows, and he watches as the other man swallows again. Their eyes meet, and he slinks over, slides his arms around his Rick's frame from behind. He pulls him close, and the fact that Rick doesn't tense in his grip both amazes and arouses him. He's got his arms curled around the man's waist, as he dips in to bury his nose in the crook of Rick's neck. Inhaling sharply, he looks up over his Rick's shoulder to peer at the other one. He sees those eyes go wide, and then those brows furrow into a frown. The realization hits him like a hurricane.

“...Oh.” The other Rick says, and Negan can practically hear the unspoken 'so it's like that' emanating from him.

Negan presses a kiss to his Rick's neck and smirks against the skin when he feels the other man shudder against him. “Look at this neat little opportunity we've got right fucking here. I feel like a kid walking into a Spencer's for the first time in his young life. My dick is so confused, but so, _so_ fucking ready to take both of you...right here...right now.”

Negan watches the way the other Rick's eyes dart from Negan's to his counterpart's, and then back to Negan's once more. He flattens his lips, shuffles from one foot to the other, and then clears his throat. “You're shitting me.”

This Rick's accent isn't as thick as Negan's Rick's is. He can definitely tell the guy is no yankee, but he talks a little differently from the way his other self does. The contrast is just as arousing as all the similarities, and Negan fights back a pleasant hiss at the thought of comparing the sounds they make during more...passionate situations.

“He's not.” Negan's Rick surprises him when he speaks up. He doesn't have to be able to see into those blue eyes to tell they're half-lidded, and in response, he kisses up along Rick's neck and catches the very corner of his jawline in his teeth. He bites back a moan when Rick's body succumbs to a moment of weakness and leans back into Negan's own. “Thinks he's subtle, but he's been hinting in all kinds of ways that he's interested in me. In _that_ way, y'know.”

In _that_ way, indeed. At the thought of Rick having known the whole time, Negan bundles his fingers up in a fist around that blue button-up, tugging hard enough to yank off the bottom button. His fingers brush against hot skin there, and damn, if his boner didn't just pop a boner too.

“I don't doubt it, actually.” The other Rick answers with a nervous laugh. “The other Negan...my Negan...he's not exactly subtle, either.”

“ _Your_ Negan.” Negan muses against his Rick's skin. He curls his fingers, digging his nails into the other man's flesh. He likes the shaky exhale he gets in response. “Shit...why didn't you bring him to the party, too?”

“Right, like I planned to show up here and be solicited a threesome.” The other Rick rolls his eyes.

“Who said that was what I was soliciting?” Negan likes the way he makes this new Rick freeze at the thought that he might have been a little too quick to assume. Like some crazy voodoo shit, he tries to stir up even more of a reaction within the other Rick by rocking his hips forward and brushing his clothed erection against his own Rick's ass. His Rick shivers, and Negan practically creams himself on the spot when he feels the man's arm slide back awkwardly to grip the thigh of his pants tightly.

“Maybe I was going to tear _my_ Rick the fuck apart, right in front of you.” Negan continues. “Bend him over the couch and pound him right into the cushions—show you what you would look like _getting thoroughly fucked_ , hmm?”

There it is. That hazy vision Negan was going for. Both Ricks are caught up in it now, and it leaves Negan wondering if the other Rick's been secretly pining for _his_ Negan, too. Despite that, he speaks up again, as he slides a hand down his Rick's waist and works his belt open. “But no, in all fucking seriousness, I need your ass all up in this business too, so c'mere.”

Negan rests his chin on Rick's shoulder and just watches as his counterpart approaches. He revels in the way the other Rick hesitates a foot or so in front of him, and then proceeds to be _whoa holy shit surprised_ when he pushes the blue-eyed Rick out of Negan's grip. Negan doesn't fight it, though. He lets the push happen, and takes in the dumbfounded look on his Rick's face. Dumbfounded and aroused and clearly confused, and he's basically a goddamned painting in a museum right now with how pretty and colorful and flushed that he looks, the fly to his pants hanging open and his shirt all mussed.

The other Rick moves in close, and Negan sees those dark eyes lock onto his own. His gaze is so pointed and yet so thoughtful, like he's trying to decide what to do, even though his body has already figured it out. He motions to the scenery around them with his left hand. “...So just to make sure we're clear...you're asking for sex with both of us.” He motions to his blue-eyed parallel, who turns a hazy gaze up to Negan in waiting, even though he knows how the man's going to respond.

“Sounds about right.” Negan cocks his head to the side, throwing one of his smirks in the guy's direction.

But then, this other Rick _smirks back._ He rests a hand on his hip and then motions with his right arm down to the ground. “I can get behind that. But you're gonna let _me_ fuck _you_.”

“S'cuse me?” Negan outright laughs. A part of him is curious to see just what kind of experience this Rick has to offer him, but the one who can tell this guy is trying to wound his pride is half-tempted to shut him the fuck down, right then and there. “Last I recalled, _I_ was the boss, fuck you very much.”

“You can still be.” The other Rick shrugs. “But I want this moment.”

Negan kind of gets it. He thinks it has a lot to do with the whole subjugation thing. With not having control for so long and suddenly having a chance at it, even if it's just during a particularly impassioned sexual tryst that admittedly makes zero sense whatsoever. He's not entirely opposed to it, and when his Rick speaks up too, he learns that a Rick Grimes in any incarnation can be very convincing.

“Think about it.” The blue-eyed Rick starts, and Negan hears the smile in his own voice. “You want us so bad, you can have us both at the same time.”

Is this really happening? Even for Negan, this is a little insane. He's sure he's not the only one still trying to process that there are two Ricks present, but hot damn if a Rick Sandwich doesn't sound like the best fucking thing ever...

And well, shit couldn't get much weirder than this, so Negan decides _what the hell_ , and goes for it.

“You got it, baby.” He practically coos, smirking down at the other Rick. “You can start by giving me a kiss.”

He likes the way the dark-eyed Rick's brows raise up into his forehead, and how his lips quirk up again in another grin. He feels the fingers of the man's left hand slide up along his arm, stopping at his face. The darker-eyed Rick's head quirks to the side, and Negan watches those eyes scan his face. He licks his lips just milliseconds before Rick obeys and closes the distance between them.

This Rick's lips are dry and chapped, making Negan wonder if he chews on them out of stress. He definitely looks like he's been under some level of it, and if Negan's being honest, he knows a huge part of that is his fault. Or, jesus fuck, this Rick's version of him's fault. If that isn't more confusing than anything Negan's ever taken the time to think about while swapping spit with someone.

Either way, he doesn't mind the slightly rough texture. If anything, it's like it's a part of the experience that is Rick Grimes. He tastes uniquely good, too. Negan can smell a hint of sweat on him, like the guy had maybe been out on a run himself before he'd run into his counterpart and said counterpart's version of his boss.

The kiss escalates quickly enough. There had been an initial slowness to the movements of Rick's lips on Negan's, but he's long-since thrown that to the wind and is now all over him, working open his jacket and pushing it clear off his arms and shoulders. Negan feels the strange sensation of the warmth from the jacket leaving him, but it's replaced by arms around him, and he finds he doesn't mind that way.

He's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't realize his own Rick has moved to stand behind him. Not until said Rick slides his arms around his waist and kisses at the back of his neck. He doesn't fight it when those fingers work open his pants and slide inside.

It almost doesn't feel real, how easily and naturally this whole experience comes to the two Ricks. One's fondling him inside his pants and peppering hot and wet kisses along his neck and shoulders while the other kisses him relentlessly and somehow manages to direct all three of them closer to the couch that Negan had mentioned earlier.

The next thing Negan knows, he's on his back on the couch, his head in his Rick's lap and the other Rick on the other side, pulling away at his pants. Soon enough, he's dressed like Donald Fucking Duck, with just his shirt and nothing else on. He feels the other Rick's calloused fingers curl around his cock, and that roughness gives way to a whole slew of other sensations, like the chill in the air around him compared to the heat of his arousal, and the gentle brush of the blue-eyed Rick's breath against Negan's face as he leans over him to steal a kiss.

It doesn't take a genius to know that Negan's normally a pretty dominant personality. He can't say he's ever pictured himself having his senses assaulted like this by two other people, but he's also not about to deny how fucking good it feels. His dick throbs in the darker-eyed Rick's grip, and it dribbles hungrily, aching for more sensation, more friction, more goddamned _Rick Grimes._

Negan breaks the kiss with his Rick to look down at the other one, his swollen lips curling upward into a smirk. “While you're down there, you could blow me. It'd make my fucking day, Rick.”

He likes the dull stare he gets in return, and the way the other Rick complies regardless of the look on his face. He likes how he just _knows_ Rick's never put a dick in his mouth before, but that this one goes for it anyway. The warm wetness that surrounds him has Negan relaxing back in his Rick's lap and yanking him down for another kiss.

They're all silent for a moment there, as Negan focuses on the taste of his Rick's tongue and the other Rick focuses on what he's been asked to do. Negan is shameless and unapologetic in the way his hips rock forward into the other man's mouth, but he sure doesn't hear any complaint. Every now and then, he'll feel the darker-eyed Rick back up a bit, but soon enough, he's back down on him and getting to work.

Negan guesses it doesn't really matter what Rick's doing—he gets shit done, regardless.

But then, the other Rick surprises him somewhat. He's so busy kissing his own Rick that he's momentarily unaware of the fact that the Rick on his lower half has pulled away from his cock, and when he resumes, Negan feels his fingertips teasing at his ass.

 _Whoa_.

Okay, so he had agreed to let this guy fuck him, but _damn_. He freezes, and apparently his own Rick sees this, because there's suddenly a gentleness to their kissing as the other man works that makes Negan's stomach do somersaults. He's torn between 'holy shit, I can't believe I'm doing this' and 'oh fuck, these guys are good' in the best way possible.

He doesn't remember when he went from feeling a little odd by the intrusion of the other Rick's fingers to moving his body to meet the movements of the digits, but here he is, shamelessly bucking against the sensation. The guy apparently doesn't need two hands to do this shit as long as he's got his mouth, because Negan doesn't even see the difference. It feels good, and that's about all he knows.

And then, the other Rick curls his fingers _just right_ , and Negan moans straight into his Rick's mouth at a sudden burst of sensation. Goddamn, that feels good. No wonder some guys just like being the fucking catchers. And Rick _knows_ he's found that spot, because he's brushing it over and over again now, pushing Negan far too close far too quickly, when he is honestly just _not done yet_.

He just about fucking loses it. Somewhere between groaning into the kiss and fucking himself on his Rick's counterpart's fingers, he decides to put a stop to it. He slides his own hand down and curls his fingers tightly around the base of his cock, breaking the kiss and smirking hazily down at the other Rick.

“You're blowin' my fucking mind here, baby, but I'm not ready to be done yet.” Negan says as he forces himself off of the couch and away from the two bodies. His skin is suddenly very cold, and he wants nothing more than to finish and come hard right into Rick's mouth, but he's got a better idea. “And I know you both are aching for a little somethin'-somethin' too, if you know what I mean.” His confidence is starting to resurface as the assault of pleasure starts to wear off. He drops his grip on his erection and just grins down over the couch at the two men.

He points to the less familiar Rick. “I'm not letting you go in dry, and the playing field looks goddamn uneven right now, so.” He then nods to his own Rick, relishing in the way those blue eyes stare back at him, curious and aroused and confused, and all around fucking perfect. “You, suck his dick. Get him good and wet for me.”

Negan's Rick says what they're all thinking with a shake of his head and a laugh. “...This is insane.”

Insane or not though, he goes for it. Negan watches in amazement as the two men strip down and, hot damn, it's the coolest thing he's ever seen. He's never pegged Rick as the narcissistic type, but it doesn't really fucking matter what kind of person you are. When you're fucking yourself, you're gonna look pretty goddamned full of yourself.

Negan thinks of how fiesty both Ricks are. He doesn't know much about this other one, but he does know that his Rick , the guy who has threatened to kill him, managed to stare passively through him, regarded him simply because he _had_ to, and somehow retained that spark that is Rick Grimes through all of this, is basically sucking himself off right now. And the other Rick, fiery straight from the start, with a fierceness Negan appreciates the hell out of, is enjoying the shit out of it. He's got his left hand in his counterpart's hair, smiling appreciatively down at him, as he props himself up on his right arm.

Negan doesn't realize he's started stroking himself watching, but when he catches himself doing it, he stops almost immediately. By the time he does, the one-handed Rick's got his head lolled back and is panting as his mirror works him. Negan notices with a heavy amount of amusement that apparently, Rick Grimes in any incarnation sports a damn near full-body blush, because both of these motherfuckers are flushed from their ears down along their chests.

Fucking fuck...

“Okay, my turn.” Negan says, even though he doesn't really have to. He knows by now that they aren't stopping until they're all spent. Either way, he moves in and plants a hand on his Rick's shoulder, gently pulling him back. He smirks down at him and wipes the stray trail of saliva from his lower lip as he's pulled back. “You, sit on your knees, right here.” He coaxes as he crawls atop the other Rick, directing his Rick to sit at the end of the couch, facing him.

He's facing away from the other Rick as he settles over him. He reaches down, settles the other man's cock at his hole, and pushes down.

Oh, fuck. Rick is bigger than two fingers. Much bigger. It doesn't hurt, but it's an unusual feeling, and Negan now knows why people use lube instead of spit all the fucking time. Shit, is there even anymore of that stuff around? Why is he thinking about this right now? He's supposed to be having sex.

Despite the momentary discomfort, Negan keeps moving. He pushes himself down until he's impaled all the way to the hilt, and then rocks back upward. He hears the other Rick moan behind him, and cranes his head to look at him over his shoulder. “Listen to you.” He praises. “Keep fucking moaning like that and maybe I'll let you top again next time.”

And then that Rick starts moving too, and he and Negan work to build a rhythm. It quickly becomes pleasant again, and once Negan's sure he's got it down, he pulls his Rick in close, keeping him on his knees. In seconds, he's got his hand on the blue-eyed man's dick and is stroking relentlessly, tongue and teeth and lips enjoying the taste of the man's abdomen and chest while he works.

“You like that?” He questions, staring up into those blue eyes as his hands and his mouth and basically his entire fucking body move.

His Rick doesn't answer, at least not to Negan's question. He instead looks down and grins hazily at him. “Never thought I'd get the chance to be lookin' down on you like this.”

“Don't ruin the moment by being a toolshed.” Negan chuckles against his belly, before he slides two fingers into his mouth and decides to take a hint from the Rick currently fucking him. Soon enough, he's got his fingers in his Rick's ass and is pounding himself down onto the other one's cock, and goddamn, his head is spinning.

Even Negan can't manage words right now. He's too busy rocking his hips and curling and pumping his fingers, stroking and kissing and moaning steamily against the skin of his Rick's abdomen. He finds that same spot the other Rick had found within him, inside his Rick, and he bites his lip hard when he hears the man's breathing shift entirely.

It feels so good, so fucking good, especially when Negan arches his back just right and the Rick beneath him starts hitting that spot a-fucking-gain. He moans shamelessly against his Rick's skin, and makes damn sure the other man feels the pleasure he's feeling right now. And Negan can tell the other Rick feels it too, because his movements are growing harder and more erratic, and Negan can feel the sweat on his skin every time he fucks himself down all the way onto the guy.

Negan's blown away by everything going on at once. He's so out of it, mind foggy with pleasure and heat and friction, that when his Rick's orgasm hits, he doesn't notice until the heat of his release peppers his face and neck and shirt. He laughs delightedly when he sees the ecstasy on his partner's face, and then he turns his head and looks over his shoulder just in time to see that same exact fucking expression twist its way onto the other Rick's features.

And then the heat is inside of him, hot and wet and so goddamned perfect that it throws Negan clean over the edge. His orgasm hits so hard that he leans down and catches the mirror Rick's thighs in a white-knuckled grip while he finishes, eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh, fu—“

And then he's on his back. He's on his back and his left arm hurts so bad he wants to slice the fucker off. His eyes are wide open and he's gawking up at the ceiling. Rick, his Rick, is leaning over the back of the couch at him. Negan can feel the cool air dusting along his skin, moist with sweat. He laughs and raises the hand that doesn't hurt so that he can cover his eyes with his forearm.

He should've known that shit was too good to be true.

“Fuckin' sucks...”

“What?” Rick sounds confused, which brings Negan back even more to reality.

“Pretty sure I just had the best fucking wet dream.” He's not even going to bother sugarcoating it, and he laughs again when he sees Rick's blue eyes drift down to his crotch.

“ _Really_?” Rick rolls his eyes. “You're lucky you're alive.”

“...The fuck happened, anyway?” Negan asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“You fell.” He watches Rick point to a hole in the ceiling. “Guess the floor was weak or somethin', but I was in here and watched you hit the ground. Tried to break your fall with your arm, and you ended up snappin' the thing right at your forearm.”

Welp, that certainly explains the pain. Negan glances down at his left arm, which Rick has secured in a makeshift splint between two boards and some thin rope tied around them to hold them in place.

“But now that you're awake, we should get you out of here and get that looked at.” Rick's tone is somewhat serious, and Negan wonders just how much of that is Rick's take-charge attitude and how much of it is him actually giving a damn about Negan's well-being.

“Well fuck, look at you being sweet as syrup to little old me.” Negan teases, watching as Rick waves a hand dismissively and walks away. He clears his throat as he turns to sit up, and Rick turns to face him again. “So...don't suppose there was another guy around...looked a lot like you?”

Rick frowns. “Nope. Just us.”

Negan snaps the fingers on his good hand, mocking disappointment. “Damn.”


	5. Come Hell and High Water - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cherryjuice on here requested a sequel to Come Hell and High Water, and how can I refuse? This time, it's filthy hate sex. Enjoy lmao.

Negan and Rick both look like shit. They're walking into the gates of Alexandria as if nothing happened, bodies and clothing filthy, covered in sweat and blood and dirt. The swollen marks on their faces are purpling now, and Negan's got dried blood on his lips and chin, while Rick sports a black eye and a split lip of his own. They both look the very example of exhausted, even after having slept in the fucking rain for a length of time that neither of them have a full grasp on.

Negan can feel eyes on both of them. He struts through, grinning to himself as if nothing has happened, and even flashes a wink to Rosita as he passes. She's the most receptive to his behavior, and her little scowly-arm-cross thing is like a megaphone that everyone else is silently screaming into, and Negan knows what everyone's thinking through her.

Probably something along the lines of ' _what the fuck did he do to Rick?_ ' His smirk twists at the thought of explaining to the people of Alexandria that he'd beaten the everloving shit out of the little asshole. Yeah, he'd taken a few hits in the process, but _let this be a lesson_ , and all that jazz. God, how great it would be to see the collective looks of horror and disgust on their faces. They still think the've got a say in anything they do, even when Rick himself has told them they don't. They're never going to learn.

When is he ever going to get it through that pretty little head of his that the only way to make someone obey you is to make them _scared_? He's still trying to reason with them, to tell them that Negan's only going to keep killing people off if they continue being dumbshits and retaliating, and well, look where that's gotten him. To a bunch of scowly, talkative motherfuckers who don't know their places, even with their ringleader at the forefront.

Negan stops just before the porch of Rick's house and shoots him a sideways glance. His vision is a little blurry from the sides, so maybe he's got a shiner on his eye, too. Either way, he wonders how much more breaking he'll have to do before Rick starts taking care of his people the way he should be. He laughs to himself at the thought, even though the chuckles are perfectly audible to anyone who's listening.

“Rick.” He demands, voice icy and stern. “Let's go get cleaned up. Dibs on the upstairs bathroom.”

He doesn't care that Rick doesn't follow along immediately. The guy's got to do that pathetic little gesture he always pulls, where he looks back at his people, probably doing a head-count, and shoots them an apologetic glance, before he's following Negan along like the lost puppy he is.

Oh, how Negan wants to train that puppy. Show him the ropes and watch him make him proud. He'd reward him with little privileges here and there, and maybe make him beg for them from time to time. Negan can just picture Rick on his knees, throwing out one of those begrudging thank-yous, but at least he'll have Alexandria actually fucking listening to him.

It won't be that difficult, either. Rick was a challenge at first, but now that he knows the power Negan holds on his methods alone, he'll probably be easier to coach. Rick can still be a good guy and enact subtle fear tactics—really, he can. It isn't impossible. Negan's the bad guy, and he can teach the good guy to take control. They can be like night and day, perched atop twin thrones in different communities.

Yeah, Negan's fantasizing, but seeing Rick bend to his will's become something of a hobby to him. In fact, fantasizing is starting to give way to genuine contemplation, and maybe if he promises Rick a little more leeway regarding the treatment of Alexandria, he can actually convince him to give it a try. Just picturing those blue eyes going dark with a little extra control...it does things to Negan that he hadn't expected to ever come out of meeting Rick and his group.

But here he is, making his way up Rick's stairs, to Rick's bathroom, licking his lips as he thinks about all the things he could do to Rick while he's in his house.

He finally reaches his destination, and what he sees in the mirror shocks him so much that he outright whistles. Rick really has done a number on him. The split in his lip is so wide that Negan figures he's not getting a kiss from the wives any time soon...unless one of them is into that, he supposes.

Either way, he doesn't wait for Rick's permission—he just strips down and hops into his shower. Hot damn, it feels good. After the unintentional romp out on the cold, rainy ground at that empty-as-fuck warehouse, the warmth of the shower spray feels fucking orgasmic. Negan looks down and watches the dirt wash away into the drain, a whirlpool of earthy brown and blood red, and he feels infinitely cleaner on just that sight alone.

Rick smells like his soap, which Negan is using right now. The way the scent fills the steamy air around him makes it even better, too. It's got Negan picturing Rick in the shower himself, his face all turned up into the shower spray, dragging his fingers through his hair. His eyes are shut, and then Negan's arms are around him, nails digging into his skin. He's sucking on Rick's neck, and then touching him, making him come apart in his arms, and that's fucking hot to think about.

But the fantasy disappears down the drain with the soap, and Negan figures it's time for him to get out of here before his mind gets to wandering too far. He spends some time rinsing what he can of the mess out of his clothes, before he hangs them over the towel rack and moves into Rick's room, a towel around his waist. He starts going through the man's closet.

“...What're you doin'?” Rick questions, just standing in the middle of his room, that edge of bitterness still in his voice. Negan bites his lip around a smirk.

“Shower's all yours.” He says, ignoring Rick's question. “You need one.” Actually, he doesn't mind seeing Rick like this at all. Covered in dirt and sweat and blood, Rick looks a hot mess, and Negan could practically fuck him him senseless right then and there. The only thing stopping him is...

There's nothing. Nothing is stopping him from fucking Rick senseless.

“Half my shit doesn't mean half my clothes.” Rick says, trying again, and Negan rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you, I wasn't planning on taking your clothes.” He retorts. “But now that you said that shit, whatever the fuck I decide to put on is mine.” Nevermind the fact that Rick's clothes are probably a bit too small for Negan.

Negan looks over just in time to see Rick sigh and cross his arms, leaning back against the wall next to where his bed had been at one point. “Why do you need my clothes?”

“Because mine are drying off.” Negan shrugs.

“So wait for them to dry off.”

“...Excuse the fuck out of me, Rick.” Negan stops rifling through Rick's clothes long enough to cast another glance his direction. He's glaring daggers at the other man, even though he actually kind of enjoys hearing Rick talk to him like that. “Do I need to remind you why you watch what you say to me?”

Rick sighs again. “..No.”

“Good.” Negan focuses back on his search through Rick's closet. “What's got your nuts in a twist, anyway? Didn't get all your frustration out earlier?”

Rick's apparently not done being a big sass-ass either, because his next response is no less salty than all the ones before Negan scolded him. “You think that's all the frustration I've had? Don't forget what you've done, Negan. I sure haven't. They sure won't.” He nods vaguely in the direction of outside, which Negan interprets to represent the people of Alexandria.

He steps back from the closet, still without clothes in hand, and turns, rolling his eyes dramatically in Rick's direction. “Don't forget, you killed my men, too. A _whole fucking lot_ of them. You can play the victim all you want, Rick, but that doesn't make it valid.”

Rick's on one tonight, Negan decides, because his sharp tongue hasn't stopped lashing. It's exasperating, but not totally uncalled-for. Negan just wishes he'd use that damn tongue for something else.

“What did those men mean to you?” Rick seethes, suddenly approaching. Negan watches him with a surprisingly level expression. “They were just a body count—firepower to protect your outpost. Glenn, Abraham...they were our _family_. Spencer was someone's _son_. Olivia didn't deserve any of the shit you threw at her.”

Negan's growing irritated, and with Lucille still sitting propped up against the wall in the bathroom, he's feeling kind of vulnerable. Not that he's going to let Rick get the best of him, but still. She's become a part of him at this point.

Rick is just a couple feet from Negan—well within arms' reach—something Negan takes note of as he speaks. “You don't get to make that fucking call, Rick. Your community doesn't hold the tiniest goddamned _drop of wax_ from a candle to the population of mine. There are a lot of men, and I don't even know half their fucking names, but those I _do_ know, I'm pretty damn fond of.” He narrows his eyes. “I might seem uncaring and evil to you, but that's just _you_ , Rick. Anything else you want to get off your chest while we're here?”

Rick's next words are the straw that breaks the camel's back.

“I should've killed you with your own bat while I had the chance.”

It happens so quickly that Negan doesn't even remember doing it. One moment, he's got Rick's shirt clutched tightly between both his fists, and the next, he's got him pinned against the nearest wall with the grip. He narrows his eyes.

“You know what? Maybe you _should have_. Because now, you've got me so fucking pissed I can't see straight, and that's _not_ a good situation to put yourself into, Rick Grimes.” Negan wants to do so much all at once. He wants to slug Rick right in his stupid teeth, beat the shit out of him, and choke the life out of him all at the same time. But instead, he's stuck here, pushing the guy up against the wall and glaring at him like Rick's been doing for the past several hours.

Rick doesn't say anything at first. He merely continues to stare icy blue daggers up at Negan. But when he does finally open his mouth, it's with something of a twisted sneer on his normally-soft features.

“What're you gonna do? Kiss me again?”

Negan can tell Rick knows he's onto something there, because he doesn't waver. He just waits for the words to sink in, and when they do, Negan's grip actually falters some. Not much, but some. Enough that he can put more of his focus into raising his eyebrows.

“What?” Negan questions. “Fucking liked that, did you?”

Rick's expression relaxes somewhat, and Negan assumes it's because he saw him do the same thing. “...It'd be nice to know why you did it.”

Negan cocks his head. “...You didn't answer my question, Rick. Tit for fucking tat here, asshole, you answer me and I'll answer you.”

Rick sighs, and Negan can practically hear the 'of course' in his exhale. “It's hard to like somethin' you don't understand. I punched you, and we beat the hell out of each other, and then you turn around and do that? What do you want me to say, Negan?”

Negan's devilish grin resurfaces and spreads its way damn near from ear to ear. “That, right there, is exactly why I did it!” He lets go of one side of Rick's shirt to point at his face, his eyes wide with delight. “You can take a punch, Rick. You took a whole helluva fucking lot of them out there on that field. You still look like you're feeling it, too. But I kiss you at the end of it and you don't know what to do with yourself. Before you know it, you'll be pining after me like you want to be one of my wives.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Rick spits back, voice stinging like acid on Negan's ears. “You sound like you could do a good job of it.”

“Don't need to when I've got a willing candidate right in front of me.” Negan licks his lips, and he knows he's right when he sees Rick shudder in front of him. Yeah, he probably really does hate the fuck out of Negan, but you don't always have to like a guy to want to screw the shit out of him.

Which both of them want to do right now. Call it the heat of the moment or some shit.

“You're disgusting.” Rick hisses in response to Negan sliding a knee between his legs.

“Tell me to stop, then.” Negan dares him, because he might be an asshole, but if Rick's really unwilling, he won't make him do it.

Rick narrows his eyes, and then he does something Negan doesn't expect—he curls his fingers in the still-wet hair atop Negan's head and yanks him sideways, reeling them both around until he's the one pinning Negan up against the wall. He shoves the taller man hard enough that it actually threatens to take the air from his lungs, and Negan's chest burns uncomfortably for a solid few seconds before he can even so much as respond.

Which Rick takes advantage of, apparently, because he hasn't stopped moving ever since he thought it was a good idea to put his hand in Negan's hair. His body is up against Negan's so tightly that the buttons of his shirt actually dig into the skin of the larger man's chest. And he doesn't stop there. In what Negan can only interpret as a power trip, Rick's teeth are on the crook of his neck, and he's doing some weird mix between biting and sucking, and _fuck everything_ , that's good.

“How about I just tell you to shut up, instead?” Rick growls against Negan's skin, and he outright shudders at the feeling, because Rick's voice is still vibrating along his nerve endings and making him so hard so fucking early. It's in that gravelly voice, Negan thinks.

He lets Rick have his moment for a little bit, tipping his head to allow the other man more room for his assault. He's being rough—so very rough—and it hurts in all the right ways. Negan can tell he wants to cause him pain, but judging by the blunt nails raking harshly up along his chest and the hand still firmly embedded in his hair, it's also pretty obvious he's going for arousal, too.

And it's working, Rick. Hot damn, it's working.

Negan's obeyed Rick's request without even trying. It's probably because he's caught up in the moment, absorbed in the twin sensations of pain and pleasure mixing together so fluidly that Negan's actually having difficulty making out the differences between the two. Either way, it feels nice, and he really couldn't care less what's being said or what isn't.

At least, until Rick actually bites hard enough to draw blood. Negan actually _hears_ the 'pop!' of his skin giving way beneath Rick's teeth, and _oh fuck_ , that's so good and so wrong, and Negan needs a little more of that in his life.

He doesn't remember doing it, but the tables have turned suddenly, and Negan's got Rick back up against the wall by the front of his shirt. His fists are wrapped so tightly in the fabric that it's twisted up and exposed the smaller man's belly. Rick's fingers are still in Negan's hair, though he's braced back with his other hand against the wall, as if the impact might have thrown him straight through it if he hadn't.

“Look at you, Rick.” Negan praises breathily, leaning in to nibble roughly on Rick's lower lip. He can taste the metallic tang of dried blood there, but that only spurs him on further. He pulls back enough that his words are hot on the other man's skin. “Still covered in dirt and blood and all hot and bothered for me right now. You look so fuckable, I almost can't contain myself.”

Rick doesn't say anything in response. Instead, his fingers slide down so that his grip is now painfully tight in the hair on the back of Negan's head, and he yanks him in for a hungry kiss. It's messy—all teeth and tongues and a sloppy, wet, needy war between two mouths. It's intimate in its own right, though, and Negan's visibly hard through the towel around his waist.

Speaking of which, it's obvious he's not going to need that thing right now. Negan lowers his hand just long enough to tear the article away, and then his hand is back on Rick's shirt, tearing the top button open. He hears the little round piece of plastic hit the ground somewhere off in the distance, but he pays it no mind. He's sure Rick will give him hell for tearing up his clothes later, but Negan will deal with that when the time comes.

Rick's lips and teeth and tongue are relentless on Negan's jaw now, and his free arm has come around to drag his nails along his partner's back. Negan arches into the contact, biting back a low moan.

“Fuck...” Negan pants, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he braces a hand up on the wall beside Rick's head. “It's like you _know_ I love the feeling of nails digging into my back.”

“I asked you to shut up.” Rick growls, giving Negan's hair a particularly aggressive pull.

Negan laughs, his voice husky. “Damn, you're ballsy as fuck today. But you're forgetting you're not the boss, Rick. _I_ am.” He punctuates the last two words by yanking open the rest of Rick's shirt. Even underneath the filthy material, Rick is covered in dirt and blood and smells like sweat. Negan never really fancied himself the type to be into all that, but on Rick Grimes, it's basically a giant 'fuck me' sign.

And he's about to follow some goddamn orders...

Negan's unable to hold back the next moan when he closes his mouth around one of Rick's nipples. He can taste everything from their earlier fight on the sensitive skin, and the way Rick arches out into his mouth is so fucking perfect. “What, you like that?” Negan coos against the hardening nub underneath his tongue. “You're coming apart on me, Rick. Startin' to feel like you're all fucking talk.”

Those words are just the incentive Negan needs to provide, apparently, because Rick's nails are suddenly cutting into the skin at the small of his back, pulling him close and getting the point across simultaneously. Negan likes how he doesn't speak, though. His actions—how he tightens his fist around Negan's hair and pulls him in with his other hand—speak louder than any words his goddamned perfect, gravelly voice could ever hope to formulate.

“That's better. Should we start up a language, here?” Negan teases, kissing his way back up to Rick's neck. His tongue drags along the sweaty, filthy skin of his throat, until his mouth is on the other man's again and he's letting him taste the mess he currently is. “Use those fucking talons of yours if you want me to keep going, pull my hair if you want me to keep going _faster_? Slap my thigh with your dick if you're ready to get down to the fucking part?”

Rick bites his lip, _hard_ , and it reopens the healing split in his lip, immediately generating a thin stream of the crimson liquid along his lip and chin. “My pants. _Off_.”

There's something about this attitude that just has Negan right the fuck where he knows Rick wants him. He hates it when people talk back to him. Or rather, he tries to. He's always a little impressed when someone decides to dig their heels into the ground and speak their minds, but he's also always made a good point of shutting it down, too. Rick, on the other hand, is apparently a totally different story. Has been since that night outside of the RV.

How many people should Negan have _actually_ killed for it to be fair? When he looks back onto everything that went down that night, he comes up with a solid _a lot fucking more than two_ , but he still let it slide for some reason.

Probably because _Rick Fucking Grimes_ , that's goddamned why.

Negan hates how compelled he is to comply, and he loves it at the same time. He's wondering just how good Rick's going to look all naked and flushed and lustful in front of him. Wants to get his mouth all over the little fucker and tear him apart. Wants to see him rip at the seams, screaming Negan's name all the fucking way down.

It's that mentality that propels Negan to obey, but he tells himself it isn't for Rick. He just...really needs to see Rick come apart. Every last part of him. His fingers shift away from Rick's shirt, and he laughs to himself when he sees the other man's body slide downward just slightly. He hadn't realized he'd been holding him up somewhat. Either way, he hastily works open the holster and belt around Rick's waist and casts the former aside, before he unzips those tight fucking jeans and pushes them down.

Rick's hard already, and Negan devours that realization like Thanksgiving dinner. And Negan's thankful for Rick being as horny as he is right now. “Fuck you, Rick.” Negan groans, cupping the other man's face as he looks down between their bodies. “Playing hard-to-get and your dick's already leaking just thinking about having me buried inside you.”

He feels the way Rick shudders against him, and that grip in his hair stutters almost needily. Negan loves every second of it as he trails his fingers along Rick's neck and shoulder and continues speaking. “What's even going on in your head right now, hmm? Thinking about me fucking you up against this wall right here? I can see it right now, Rick—you impaled on my dick, while I slam you into the wall. You'll fumble those hands on the wall before you swallow your pride and hold onto me, but I'm a sweet fucking guy, so I'll have your back. All you'll have to do is sit there and bounce on my cock and tell me how fucking goddamned good I make you feel...”

His fingers close around Rick's cock, and he pulls back, making damn sure the man can see his lust-hazed eyes and the big grin stretching along his lips. “Well, how close am I? Right on the fucking money?”

As he awaits his response, he offers a few tentative strokes. He likes the way Rick's cock twitches in his fingers, and how the arousal oozing from it coats both his and Rick's skin as he teases him. He swears he feels the man's hips buck outward into the contact. 'Atta boy, Rick Grimes...

“Just...get to it, Negan.” Rick manages, and Negan can't help but notice how his voice has grown just the slightest bit deeper.

“Remember what I said about the way you talk to me.” Negan reminds. He knows Rick's not exactly carrying lube around on him, so he works with what he's got. Not like this whole thing was ever meant to be gentle, anyway. He slides two fingers into his mouth, slicking them up, and then moves back in close again. A rough grip on Rick's thigh hefts his leg up so Negan has better access, and as he pushes a finger into the other man's body, his mouth finds Rick's once more.

“Fuck me, you're tight...” Negan groans into yet another messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Gotta know, Rick...this how you expected this shit to go when you attacked me earlier? Ever entertained the idea of having my dick buried to the hilt in your ass?”

“No.” Rick somehow manages, his arm sliding around Negan's neck and gripping harshly at his shoulders—leverage, so that he can push his body down onto the finger fucking him right now. Negan adds a second one. “Thought you were a piece of shit clear until you kissed me.”

“Just until?” Negan laughs, curling his fingers.

“Nope.” Rick's teeth bear down on Negan's lip again, and it's then that he realizes that a big part of the messiness of their kiss is the stray blood from the earlier bite getting all over. “You're still a piece of shit.”

“That's what I thought.” Negan curls his fingers just right, sees Rick's back arch off the wall, and shoves him back hard against it. “Fucking _don't_ forget it. I like your impression of me. Makes you angry. Makes you sexy.”

Rick looks like he's struggling to figure out how breathing works, and Negan can't help but give the gesture a few more tries. He likes watching Rick writhe up against the wall, fighting to avoid making too much noise, as if any of Alexandria wants to be near Negan right now. Half of them probably think Rick and Negan have been fucking before today, anyway.

“God, you look so fucking delectable right now.” Negan purrs into yet another filthy kiss. “Not gonna lie, my dick is so fucking hungry for you right now.”

Rick turns his head and bites down hard on Negan's shoulder. Negan _really_ enjoys how much that fucker uses his teeth. “C'mon, then.” Rick sounds just on the edge of needy, and the weight to his voice damn near finishes Negan before he can even get started. “Negan...”

Yep, that's all the persuasion he needs.

Negan swears he hears Rick whimper as he withdraws his fingers and then spits into his hands. He's got his cock slick and ready in seconds. There's some adjustment—pushing Rick back up against the wall, getting an arm around his waist, making the other man curl his legs around Negan's body—and then he's settled at his entrance. He sports an impish little grin as he pulls Rick down onto his body.

“Okay, yeah, fucking tight as _fuck_.” He says almost matter-of-factly. He pulls back just enough that he can see Rick's face, and he's so fucking glad he decided to take the time to do so. Rick's expression is a whole lot of different things all bottled up into one. His mouth hangs open just barely, his eyes squeezed shut, and the flush on his face tells him that Negan's got him right where he wants him. He's got one arm tight around Negan's shoulders and the other braced against the wall. His fingers are sweaty, though, so it's not doing much good.

As predicted.

“Just five seconds, Negan...” Rick groans. “Just stop talking...for five seconds.”

Negan doesn't feel compelled to obey, but he almost doesn't _have_ to have a compulsion to do so. Rick's body is hot and tight and just _whoa_ around him, and it damn near sucks the words right out of his mouth. And with the way the other man's heels are pushing into his lower back right now, and the nails digging into his shoulder...goddamn. Rick's almost going to get his wish.

He starts moving, somehow putting together a slow rhythm. Frankly, he wants to pound Rick into this wall so hard that he won't be able to move when Negan's done with him, but if he goes too fast, he's going to be done way before he actually wants to. So he takes it slow—lets the both of them adjust—and, oh yeah, gives Rick his requested five seconds.

In fact, Rick's the first to speak this time. He's got his head back against the wall, forehead slick with sweat as Negan's pace picks up. “Harder.” He urges, almost out of breath. “Make good on your promise, Negan.”

Okay, that's one Negan can't refuse. And apparently Rick catches that, because he fucking braces himself. Arches his back and bears down on Negan's cock, and Negan feels the way his legs tighten their grip around his waist.

And then he proceeds to fuck this man straight into the goddamned wall. His hips snap forward and up, and he's in to the hilt. He relishes in the 'thud!' Rick's back makes against the surface behind him, and how both arms are soon around his neck, and it's all Negan now. Well, Negan and a panting, gasping Rick Grimes who looks like he's about two sheets to the wind right now.

“God, you're fucking delicious.” Negan praises, though that's honestly all he can manage at this point. It's a lot harder to fuck a grown man against a wall than Negan's anticipated, and Rick's a pretty muscular guy. He might look small, but Negan knows he's strong, and as a result, heavy as fuck.

But that's not stopping him. His hips are snapping upward shamelessly, roughly, aggressively, and Rick's slamming their mouths together in a bloody, slobbery mess again. His fingers fist up in Negan's hair, and he finds he actually likes the way the grip stammers with each movement. He figures he must be hitting that spot, because Rick's getting more erratic and more desperate every time Negan's dick manages to push all the way inside.

“What's my name, Rick?” Negan demands, even though he's clearly out of breath. He doesn't stop moving as he speaks. “Who's rocking your fucking world right now?”

Rick doesn't answer. Negan catches a sharp glare from those foggy blue eyes, but there's no response. Instead, he just bucks his hips down on Negan's cock harder.

“I asked you a question.” Negan continues. God, how he wants to hear his name fall from this guy's lips, especially in the middle of a good, rough fuck. “Don't be fucking _rude_ , Rick...”

He still doesn't respond, and Negan's not oblivious to how close he is. At first, he attributes Rick's speechlessness to the fact that he's overwhelmed with pleasant sensation and therefore unable to formulate a proper sentence. But he somehow knows better, because Rick has proven he has an insane stubbornness over the course of today, and, well, Negan doesn't feel like letting that slide anymore.

He drags a hand around to Rick's cock, curling his fingers tightly around the base in order to prevent any release. “ _What's my name, Rick?_ ”

He can tell it's working. Rick's wracked with pleasure, and Negan can tell he wants what's being withheld from him so desperately that it probably hurts. Rick's scowling down at him by now, and Negan can tell he wants nothing more than to beat the hell out of him all over again. But too fucking bad, Rick, this is what you're getting right now.

The cave-in comes in a choked, broken voice that almost doesn't sound like what it's intended to. “N—egan...”

So of course, Negan has to keep pushing. He's almost there himself, but goddamn if he isn't dedicated as fuck to the cause, here. Everything around him is a little foggy from the heat and tension and friction Rick's providing him, though, so it's almost useless. Still, Negan persists.

“What was that, Rick? You're gonna have to speak the fuck up.”

It comes more quickly this time, and Rick somehow manages to steel his voice. “Negan...fuck...Negan...”

That's all the motivation Negan needs, honestly. He lets go of Rick's cock just in time for his own release to hit, and soon, he and Rick are both pathetic messes of shaky men bucking awkwardly against one another until they've ridden out their entire orgasm.

And then Negan is out of Rick's body, and Rick is on shaky legs, both of which give out on him and have him sitting on the ground, the dirt and blood and sweat now sporting an extra tinge of spunk. Negan still thinks he looks damn perfect, though, and he can't stop himself from licking his lips.

He's not sure how he himself is still standing.

“I'm gonna need another fucking shower.” Negan laughs to himself, before he faces Rick. “But you're way, _way_ worse off than me, so be my guest and take the first one.”

Rick gets his last freebie comment for the day, mostly because Negan's still heavily wrapped up in the afterglow of what was just now a very hardcore wall-fuck. Either way, he looks into those blue eyes once more, just in time to see Rick retort.

“It's _my_ shower, anyway.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing. I love when I'm at work and just happen to check AO3 on my phone and I've got comments from you all. It makes my night. <3
> 
> Hope you continue to enjoy my work!


	6. You Belong To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr who asked for Negan deciding to make Rick get a tattoo to stake a claim on him (tramp stamp was a suggestion), and him being surprised to see that Rick already has one. Had a lot of fun with this--the words just flew right onto the pages!

The Sanctuary is huge—far bigger than Rick expects, even with Michonne warning him not long ago that Negan's community was larger than any of them are ready for—so when Negan directs him out of his truck and toward the large factory, Rick's trying desperately to take it all in. He doesn't know if they'll need it, but he plans on memorizing every little detail about navigating the place as he can. If he has his way, he and his people won't be fighting the Saviors on their own turf.

Negan's dragged him out here, probably against his better judgment, because Rick's apparently still not gotten the message. At present, he's rambling on about how he's impressed with the fact that Rick has been trying so hard to do his bidding for him, but how disappointing it is that he still looks at him like he's the shit beneath his shoes, and apparently, Negan's not letting that slide.

“If we're being honest here, I don't really think we need to be as drastic as cutting a fucking arm off for this one.” Negan says as he directs Rick down a thin, dark hallway. They pass a number of doors, and the hallway seems to go on and on. “Make no mistake, it's not out of the question by any goddamned means, but right now, you're actually on semi-good terms with me. I just want a little more fucking respect out of the way you look at me.”

Rick wants to glare daggers at Negan for that, because how _else_ is he supposed to look at the guy? Negan seems to think nothing of it, but Rick and Alexandria are in a terrible situation because of him. They're struggling to find food and supplies and provide for their own group, while feeding the mouths of the ones who've done nothing but take ever since they showed up. Yeah, Rick killed some of their men, but after losing Glenn and Abraham, and then Spencer and Olivia, their suffering just doesn't seem to hold a candle to that of Rick and his people.

So _not_ glaring at Negan almost physically hurts, because it's the very least Rick can do to stare evenly at him without all the hatred and frustration he has for this man and his people shining through. Rick isn't sure if Negan just expects him to _not_ hate the Saviors for everything or what, but he can guarantee that the stifling sensation of complete and utter loathing isn't going anywhere.

He wonders what Negan's got planned for him. Walking down a dark corridor, further and further from civilization, it sure doesn't seem like it's going to be any more pleasant than making Rick slice someone's arm off. But Negan's being painfully vague, and Rick can't quite brace himself if he doesn't know the gravity of what's about to happen. Apparently, it's less harsh than the punishments Negan's enacted on him and his people so far, but damn...throw him a bone, Negan.

“You think you can give me that much at least, Rick?” Negan stops in front of a door, but he doesn't go inside. Instead, he turns his attention to Rick, waiting patiently for an answer.

Rick knows he doesn't have a choice, and he wants nothing more than to spit that venomous comment right into Negan's face, but he doesn't. Instead, he swallows, stares straight ahead and away from the other man as per usual, and answers simply, “...Yeah.”

“Good.” Negan smiles resolutely, and then pushes the door open, motioning for Rick to go inside. “Let's just make sure this time.”

The room is brightly lit, so unlike the hallway he and Negan just spent god-knows-how-long walking down. It's almost blinding at first, and Rick actually finds himself shielding his eyes. But when they adjust, he furrows his brow.

The room looks like a tattoo parlor. In fact, Rick's about ninety percent convinced it _is_ one. The Sanctuary's apparently got a little bit of everything, and they're doing well off enough to not really have to prioritize food and supplies over petty things like tattoos. There's another reason for Rick to feel bitter, and he can't help but think that Negan's not doing a very good job of getting Rick to look at him differently if he's making him hate him more.

A woman in a gray sleeveless top sits in a chair at a metal desk. She's got a piercing in her lower lip and dark hair tied back into a ponytail on the side of her head. Rick wonders where she gets the thick eyeliner and eyeshadow she has on her face, and feels another pang of bitterness. She's got a toothpick sticking out of her mouth, and she looks up from what Rick thinks is sketching to regard Negan. Her neutral expression spreads into a grin when she does so.

“Hey, Boss.” She greets.

“Talin.” Negan says, mirroring her grin. “Long time no fucking see.”

“Hard to see you when your ass is off circle-jerkin' with Arat and Dwight all the time.” The aforementioned Talin says. Rick figures the two must go way back for her to be able to talk like Negan that way. Or maybe the residents here at the Sanctuary get a few more liberties than the other communities the Saviors have their grasp on. Rick doesn't know, honestly.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy with that. It'd be real weird to be fucking with Dwight when I'm already banging his ex-wife.” Negan shrugs. “And you know Arat doesn't swing that way. She might actually be kind of into you, if you'd show your face every now and then.”

Maybe it's the lighting, but Rick figures Negan's got a point. Talin's skin is dark, but pale in its own way. She doesn't spend much time out in the sun. She rolls her shoulders at Negan's comment and pulls the toothpick from her mouth so she can take a drink of the water she's got on her desk.

“Arat can come down here, too.” She retorts simply. “Anyway, what am I doin' today? This the new boy toy everyone's goin' on about?”

Negan laughs. “Shit, they're actually saying that!? That's fucking awesome, but I don't think we've gotten to boy toy status, yet.” He licks his lips at the 'yet', and Rick shudders in a way that he keeps telling himself is unpleasant.

“In any case, just figured we'd slap my name or something on him.” Negan's voice is as casual as can be, and Rick swears he feels all the moisture getting sucked right out of his throat when he registers those words. By the time Negan speaks again, Rick's gawking at him. “Make sure he knows who he belongs to, now.”

“Yeah?” Talin grins. She spins in her chair, but doesn't get up from it. Her green eyes look Rick up and down from where she sits, and somehow, that's more unnerving than if she'd have approached. “Where you thinkin', boss?”

“Is a tramp stamp too forward?”

Rick's blood runs cold. Jesus, Negan's actually serious, isn't he? It's starting to sink in that it's just him and Negan and some woman who holds some sort of cold, mysterious threat to her, and he's probably not going to get out of this. Negan was able to drag him into an RV without much struggle, so Rick knows overpowering him alone is going to be a challenge, not to mention his pal here. On top of that, if he does get out of this, he's got the entire Sanctuary to face, regardless of whether Negan's dead or not.

“And you tell me boy toy's a bad thing to call him.” Talin's grin is so casual that Rick briefly wonders if she and Negan are related. He finds himself desperately wishing he knew more about the guy right now.

Negan shrugs again. “Rick. Take your shirt off—need to have a look.”

Rick can't stop himself from shooting Negan a horrified glance. He really, _really_ doesn't want to do this. He knows it beats having to cut an arm off of Carl or something else off of Daryl, but...Jesus.

“Oh, come the fuck on.” Negan sighs. “Stop looking at me like I'm going to force ass on you. I just want to see where we're putting this thing.”

Like it's no big damn deal. Rick shakes his head, irritated now. “Negan, this isn't necessary.”

“You don't get to decide what's fucking necessary, Rick.” Rick finds that when Negan says his name, there's a certain strength to it that makes his nerves light up. He tries to ignore it. “Now, unless you want me to find some other way to remind you where you stand, you're gonna take off the goddamned shirt and let me take a look.”

Rick swallows, but obeys regardless. He untucks his button-up and works it open, then slides the sleeves off and casts it aside. His icy gaze lands right on Negan, just staring. He's trying his absolute best not to glare, but god if it isn't the hardest urge to suppress right now.

“'Atta boy, Rick.” Negan says with a widening grin, and Rick watches him suck on his tongue between his teeth as he takes in the sight of him. His eyes are half-lidded, and there's some twisted look of satisfaction on his face as he watches. Rick can somewhat feel Talin's stare on him too, but hers is more patient, as if she's just waiting for Negan to make his decision.

Negan takes the few steps he needs to close the distance between himself and Rick, and Rick watches while those eyes scan every inch of his chest and abdomen. He can almost feel the impact of the stare on his flesh, and it makes his throat clench uncomfortably.

“You've been through some shit, Rick.” Negan thinks aloud, and Rick tenses when he feels the fingertips of Negan's ungloved hand drifting along his skin, right against the scar from the gunshot wound Rick had taken at the beginning of everything. He shivers when those fingertips graze their way across his front, to his hip, fingers closing on the spot for a moment. Negan's behind him now, and Rick can feel the weight of his chin on his shoulder. He swallows down a lump in his throat.

Negan knows what he's doing, that's for sure. Rick can't stand the guy, and yet he finds himself wanting to lean back into his frame. He's inviting in the worst way possible, and Rick hates himself for wanting to take the invitation. What would his people think?

“And look at this!” Negan backs away, nodding to a spot at the small of Rick's back, just where the 'tramp stamp' he had voiced he wanted would have gone. Rick knows what's there—a tattoo of a bleeding gunshot wound. “Who'd have thunk it—this motherfucker's already got a tramp stamp!”

“What, really?” Rick sees Talin get to her feet, and watches with bated breath as she moves to stand behind Negan. She laughs, a bubbly laugh that's almost out of character compared to her deep voice and general appearance. Rick wonders if Arat would find that pretty, too. It's a bitter thought, but Rick's pretty entitled to those right now, if he does say so himself.

“Who the fuck gets a gunshot wound tattoo?” Negan laughs. “Kind of goddamned ironic, considering you have an _actual_ gunshot wound on your front. You gotta tell me the story, Rick. Please, enlighten me.”

If Rick's being honest, he's still reeling from the little moment of contact Negan so politely provided to him just moments ago, so when he asks for an explanation, the memory behind all of that yanks him back to reality so abruptly that he might actually have whiplash.

That tattoo brings back so many memories that even Rick has trouble talking about it. Hell, he'd almost forgotten he'd had it. Lori's been dead too long to make any comments on it, and so has the one who inspired the damn thing.

“I had a buddy before all this—went by Shane.” Rick answers, and he's surprised by how attentively Negan and Talin are listening in. Genuine curiosity, he guesses. “We were partners—cops together—and best friends. My late wife hates this story.” A laugh falls from his lips, and Rick hates how fond of it all he sounds. “We got real drunk one night—I don't do good on tequila, I guess—and Shane decided we were gonna get tattoos. Went to this guy we knew from high school. Big burly guy who bear-hugged us like he hadn't seen us in years.”

Rick sees Negan's eyebrows furrow down, probably because he didn't actually expect a full story. Well, too damn bad, you're getting one. In any case, he continues.

“Me and Shane, we were just lookin' through the books, laughin' like idiots. Couldn't really decide on any one tattoo we wanted, and we were just about to give up, when Shane just pops off, 'I'll shoot you in the ass if you leave', and it's all downhill from there. He couldn't talk me into gettin' one on either of the cheeks, so we went with here. Still the tailbone, so technically the ass, I guess.”

Talin's grinning next to Negan, who just looks perplexed. “...Where'd Shane get it?” She asks.

“Right cheek.” Rick answers, and he's smiling full-on now. It's as if he isn't standing in the middle of a tattoo parlor, about to have Negan's name (or something) permanently engraved into his skin somewhere. As if he isn't fondly recollecting the memory of a best friend who had at one point been ready to kill him out in a field on Hershel's farm. As if betrayal doesn't even matter anymore.

“That's amazing.” Talin muses, before she turns on Negan, who his uncharacteristically silent. “So, no tramp stamp. What else did you have in mind?”

Negan shrugs, and then moves forward to place a hand on Rick's shoulder. He turns him back around so he's facing away once more, grazes his fingernails along the tattoo on the small of his back. “I bet I could still make one work...”

“Negan—“ Rick realizes with near-panic that he doesn't want Negan to mess with the tattoo he has there, but Negan doesn't seem to care. Rick feels his body being urged forward until Negan has him bent over, chest shuddering against the cold surface of a table.

“Don't start.” Negan says, voice suddenly cold, and Rick's throat runs dry yet again. He feels the other man draw lines along the small of his back with his fingers, presumably deciding what he wants done. Rick hates how his body shivers into the contact, and how Negan pauses when he takes notice of it. “Really, Rick?” He laughs, but seemingly gives it no more notice. Instead, his focus goes back to Talin. “Right here. Make it look like the bullet hole goes with my name somehow.”

“Somehow?” Rick hears the raising of Talin's eyebrow in her tone of voice.

“Creative freedom. Just make it look good.”

Rick's beyond words at this point. He just stares down at the table in the same way he had that gravel back on the night he had met Negan. He waits, as he hears the mixing of ink and the clanking of tools, and then the buzzing as the tattoo gun starts up. He squeezes his eyes shut as he picks up on the sound of Talin's chair scooting over closer, and then feels the warmth of her arm pressed against his side. The buzzing gets louder, and then there's the tiniest of stings on the small of his back, before Negan speaks up again.

“Okay, that's enough.”

The buzzing stops, and Talin obediently scoots back. Rick turns his head to gawk at Negan. The larger man's expression is unreadable.

“Don't know why I keep cutting you slack, Rick.” He says. “But I've usually got pretty good intuition. Get up.”

Rick obeys without a second thought. Anything to get up and away from that damn tattoo gun. He stands next to the table, eyes trained on Negan's frighteningly neutral face.

“You belong to me.” He reminds, even though Rick really doesn't need to be told twice. “I don't need my fucking name tattooed on your ass for either of us to know that. But don't think for a second that I'll ever hesitate to do it again.” And then he smiles, bending down to pick up Rick's shirt, and casts it his way. “I like the way you're looking at me right now. Keep that up and we're golden.”

While Rick dresses, he watches Negan turn his focus back to Talin, who looks unimpressed. “Thanks anyway, Tal. Maybe next time, okay?”

Talin shrugs. “You're goin' soft, Boss.”

“Keep fucking thinking that.” Negan teases back, and once he turns around and sees that Rick's dressed again, he curls his arm around his shoulders and leads him out of the room. “Now, don't think I didn't see the way you got all giddy in there...”

Rick feels like he's opened a whole new can of worms, but he doesn't say anything—just follows Negan along.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, y'all! If you're ever curious to see what my writing schedule looks like, feel free to visit http://neganstonguething.tumblr.com/tagged/schedule ! I update this thing every time someone makes a request or I finish one. So far, it's been pretty accurate.
> 
> If you'd like to make a request, you can visit http://neganstonguething.tumblr.com/ask or just suggest one in here on the comments. c: Thanks so much!


	7. Not Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan and Rick are already sleeping around, but Rick wants to know if it's worth it to pursue something further. PWP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anonymous user on tumblr requested this: It was actually in reference to an insult Negan uses against Rick in issue 164 of the comics, but they more specifically asked for "Rick at a dick sucking contest". This is probably not what they wanted in the slightest, but it's what I came up with (with the help of my twin ahhh)! Hope you like it, anon!
> 
> Enjoy, everyone. c:

The question shocks even the unpredictable Negan. It comes straight out of left field, and in the least opportune of moments.

Rick and Negan are just lying down in his bed at the Sanctuary, ass-naked, covered in a thin sheen of sex-induced sweat. Negan's still working to get his breath when Rick starts talking, and he almost finds himself feeling more exhausted just trying to listen and get off the afterglow and catch his breath all at the same time.

"We've been doin' this a lot lately."

When Negan turns his head to look at Rick, it's like the air is sucked right out of his lungs. Rick's lying on his back, eyes closed, lightly pinching at the bridge of his nose. There's a sort of half-smile on his lips, and a husky chuckle falls from them not long after he speaks.

"You did a fine fucking job stating the obvious there, Rick." Negan responds breathily, because he's frankly still having trouble processing just how finely-sculpted everything about Rick Grimes is. He's half caught between appreciating that about him and half trying to listen. Really, he _is_ half trying. Rick's a good distraction from attempting to do, well, anything though.

"It's a conversation-starter." Negan hears Rick roll his eyes, even though they're closed. "But that's not what I mean." Finally, his eyes come open and he turns his head to look at Negan, hands dropping to his sides on the bed. "What I mean is, does it _mean_ anything?" The topic sounds like it could bear some weight to it, but Rick's smiling. "Sleep with a guy once, no big deal. But then you keep doin' it and it starts to make you wonder."

Negan remembers the first time he and Rick hooked up. He'd come back to Alexandria to find that Rick and his group had managed to come up with a pretty damn good haul, and after he made a jab at Rick's hardworking team, something in it must've pissed him off, because the next thing he knew, Rick was asking for the chance to talk to him in private and they were half-fighting, half-fucking one another in the downstairs bathroom of Rick's house, dicks in one another's hands, until Rick didn't feel like slugging him anymore.

And it hasn't slowed down since. Negan can't remember when things had gone from aggressively rubbing out quick handjobs in closets and bathrooms to fucking against walls and in random beds on runs, but they had. Soon enough, Negan started dragging Rick to the Sanctuary, where things only got more heated there.

So here they are, now. With Rick asking all the big questions and Negan laughing at him for doing so. What _does_ any of this mean? Yeah, it's a quick and fun way to get off, but maybe Rick has a point. Maybe this isn't just sex anymore. When's the last time Rick's tried to hit Negan, anyway? Hell, when's the last time Negan's warned him not to look at or talk to him wrong?

Great...Rick's making him think about this.

"Does it?" Negan cocks an eyebrow, smirking as he gazes at Rick through half-lidded eyes. "So, what? Should I contemplate making you one of the wives or some shit? The fucking gotten to the point where you want to be ready for me to put it in you whenever I feel like it?"

Negan isn't expecting Rick to like that question, which he doesn't. It shows in the way his eyes fall shut and he lets out a long sigh. "No way in hell, Negan. Why do you have so many, anyway?"

Negan isn't quite sure how to take that question. So he just waits for Rick to continue.

"Do they all do it differently? You feel like screwin' with the crazy one one day, and the sweet one another?" Negan can almost hear bitterness in Rick's voice. It's not surprising he doesn't agree with the lifestyle Negan leads here at the Sanctuary, but Negan also doesn't care. The girls are all there by choice, and he would let them feed themselves to the dead ones if they wanted to try and run off. Or they could work for a living. Getting laid on a regular basis? Not a really bad choice, there.

"I feel like screwing which ever one feels like screwing me." Negan answers, shrugging. He's looking up at the ceiling, but he can feel Rick's eyes on him. "Don't tell me you're starting to get jealous, Rick."

Rick's honesty is something Negan appreciates about him. Even from the beginning, with his promise to kill him, he's been honest. Rick's just a straightforward guy. It tells Negan that he hasn't always been the borderline-confrontational leader type that he is now. Either way, he goes into his question expecting Rick to be truthful with him, and he isn't disappointed.

"Aren't they?" Negan feels the bed shift under Rick's weight as he moves to lie on his side, upper body supported by his elbow. "Especially now that they know you're sleepin' around with me--someone who's not one of the wives."

"They don't know yet." Negan answers with a shrug. "Haven't exactly fucking gotten around to telling them. But I mean, I sleep with different wives all the time. Much as I wish there was, there's just not enough fucking Negan to go around, so they have to wait their turn."

"Do they get jealous of each other?" Rick's tone suddenly shifts to one of curiosity, which surprises Negan.

"I'm sure they do." Negan shrugs. "But I try to be accommodating."

"Are they as good as me?"

Okay, now _that_ is a question that surprises Negan. His stare immediately leaves the ceiling and moves to lock onto Rick's own blue-eyed gaze. "...Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Negan." Rick says. "As far as I know, I'm the only guy you're messin' around with, and you haven't stopped. That's gotta mean somethin'. When's the last time you slept with one of your wives, anyway?"

Whoa, holy shit. Easy there, Rick. What's with this sudden onslaught of questions? Negan's almost lost for words, which is saying something, because he's fucking _Negan_ , and he's _always_ got something to say. But he's sure as shit having trouble right now.

"It means I like fucking you, Rick." Negan scoffs. "And yeah, it's been a little bit since I've slept with anyone else, but that doesn't mean shit. You're cocky as fuck all of a sudden--what's the deal with that?"

Rick shrugs. "I dunno. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Well," Negan starts, more out of a retort than an actual answer, "you haven't sucked my dick yet, so I don't have anything to judge you by."

Rick laughs. "I've only been havin' sex with you, but that's nothin' to go by."

"Shut the fuck up, Rick." Negan rolls his eyes. "Sex with a man feels different as shit from sex with a woman. But you all have mouths in common, so it seems like good fucking criteria to me. So, you want to make me want you more than them? Suck my dick."

There's a long pause, where Rick seems to genuinely be contemplating the suggestion, before the most dumbfounded look finally falls over his face. It's as if it's just now sinking in that Rick putting his mouth around Negan's cock is the way he wants to go about deciding who's better. And, in Rick's defense, he's got a lot of mouths to compete with.

But he finally says something after a handful of seconds. "Like a contest."

"Right-o, Rick. Good fucking observation. A dick sucking contest. Just...gimme a minute, will you?"

A minute actually turns into half an hour, as Negan and Rick shower off and then seat themselves on Negan's couch. Negan's sort of waiting for Rick to take the initiative, but it's within the realm of possibility that he himself might start making suggestions if Rick doesn't speak up soon.

Which he does.

"I'm not jealous."

They're on opposite ends of the couch, so when Negan hears Rick speak, he actually has to turn his head to look at him.

"...That's good to know, I fucking guess..."

"I'm serious." Rick persists, and Negan raises an eyebrow. "I just want to know if this is goin' somewhere."

Negan ponders the words for a moment, scratching at the short beard on his chin. "Depends on what you want it to be, Rick." He finally says. "But if it _is_ anything, it's gonna be fucked up. You're basically sleeping with a guy I know your people consider the enemy, and I'm not the slightest bit compelled to give up the wives."

"I know." Rick sighs. "On both parts. It _is_ messed up, and I'm not crazy about sharin', but it's not like we haven't been doin' this already." A shrug follows his words, and Negan officially finds himself impressed. Rick Grimes is not the guy he expected to be okay with any of what he just said, but well...okay, then.

"So it's something, then." Negan shakes his head in amusement.

"Yeah. Somethin'." Negan looks away, which isn't a good idea in retrospect, because suddenly, there are hands on his knees, spreading his legs open. When Negan looks down, he sees Rick between them, waiting with his forearms propped up on Negan's thighs. "Now, about that dick-suckin' contest..."

"You're still gonna do it."

"...Gotta know." Rick shrugs and then nods to the waistband of Negan's pants, as if to say 'open it'.

Needless to say, Negan obeys. He fumbles with his belts for a second, but in a minute or so, he's got them and the fly to his pants open, and is pulling his pants down to his thighs. He doesn't hesitate to open himself wide to Rick's incoming assault.

It's true--in the course of the many trysts he and Rick have had, Negan has never once asked the guy to suck his dick. The thing is, they've most often been in a giant hurry to get _on_ with it so they can get _on_ with regular business, but now that they're alone in Negan's room, they can just _get it on_. So, Negan's dick? Meet Rick's mouth.

It's an awkward introduction, really. Rick's clearly never put another man's anything in his mouth before Negan, so he's honestly just looking and trying to figure out what to do first. Negan scoffs from above him.

"You've had someone do it to you, right?" Negan rolls his shoulders when Rick nods, and then rests his arms on the backrest of the couch. "Just do what they did. Easy as fuck after that."

"...You've done it before?" Rick almost smiles, and Negan just grins down at him.

"That's for me to know and you to mind your fucking business until I let you find out for yourself one day."

Rick just raises his eyebrows, and Negan likes that he gets straight to business after that. And he likes _how_ Rick gets to business. It's not just about putting Negan's dick into his mouth. Rick explores, and feels, and Negan finds he _really_ likes the way the other man massages his thighs, and how he presses an experimental kiss to the tip of his cock before he gets started.

It surprises Negan how quickly he gets hard in response to Rick's movements. Maybe it's the scruff, or the way he's taking his sweet goddamned time. Or it could just be because he's _Rick Grimes_. Negan's had a hard-on for Rick since he threatened to kill him, so that isn't even remotely out of the question.

Either way, his erection is firm in Rick's grip before the guy even gets to the real part. Negan can tell Rick notices by the way he's looking up at him. Despite that though, he gets started.

It doesn't really matter how hesitant Rick was initially, because he's not now. He goes from tentatively licking at the slit to bearing down on Negan's cock in one fell swoop, which is a _lot_ of heat and moisture and friction and--watch the fucking teeth, Rick--sensation all at once.

It's nice, in an experimental sort of way. Negan can both see and feel Rick learning. It's in the curious sweeping of his tongue and the way he goes most of the way down, but backs up a little when it's too much. Rick learns with surprising quickness to use his hand where his mouth can't reach, and it's not long before he's got Negan at full mast, hard and leaking into his mouth.

"Look at you, Rick. 'Atta boy..." Negan commends, offering a few experimental rocks of his hips forward. Rick takes them like a fucking champ, and Negan finds himself wondering how the smaller man would react to Negan suddenly grabbing his head and just fucking the shit out of his mouth.

But he doesn't. instead, he keeps watching and enjoying himself. Rick's mouth feels perfect around him by now, and he's bobbing almost effortlessly up and down onto him, and yeah, it's fucking great. Negan has to rethink his methods of deciding how good Rick is in comparison to his wives, though, because he can't really think about it right now. Rick's actually _humming_ around him, and Negan's starting to realize focus isn't a think that's going to be happening until Rick's done working his magic.

Which he doesn't have long until, anyway. Negan allows his head to roll back onto the couch, and his body to move a little more freely into Rick's mouth. He's gripping the backrest of the couch tightly in both hands to avoid grabbing the other man's hair, and apparently Rick notices it's getting good, because he lets go of Negan's shaft so that he can use both hands to keep his thighs pressed down onto the couch.

"Fuck...Rick..." Negan moans, and he can tell he's on the verge of a very profane string of praises directed at Rick. But it doesn't happen, because suddenly, Rick's fucking deep-throating him, and Negan doesn't know how in the hell he manages to make it happen, but he does. He chokes every now and then, but keeps going regardless, and Negan realizes that _holy fuck_ , he really must want to be better than the wives at this.

But that's all the coherent thought Negan's got, because it's then that his dick decides it's had enough, and he's coming hard into Rick's mouth. Self-control fails him, and Negan's hands both find that gorgeous, curly hair, and he grips hard as he fucks out his orgasm right into Rick's mouth, smaller man's grip on his thighs be damned.

Rick swallows most of it, then sits back and wipes the rest from his mouth. And now that Negan's not focused on the intense pleasure washing over him, he can take a second to appreciate just how good Rick looks right now. His face is flushed, lips swollen, and his eyes are a little moist from the effort he'd put out. His hair is a mess now that Negan has had his hands in it, and he's panting as if he just ran the mile.

"Well?" Is the first thing he asks, and goddamn if it isn't around a satisfied grin. Apparently, Rick hadn't expected to get Negan off the first time he blew him. Wrong-o, Rick Grimes.

"Fuck yeah." Negan laughs breathily, smirking back down at the other man.

"Was it better?" Rick asks impatiently.

"...Can't remember." Negan answers, and he sees that delightful little grin fly right off Rick's face and out the window.

"...The hell's that mean?"

"It means it's real hard to remember whose blowie's better when you're in the middle of getting one. Shit feels fucking good, know what I'm saying?" Negan shrugs, making a task out of zipping himself back up into his pants.

"Negan." Rick gets to his feet.

"I guess we'll never know."

The punch that follows knocks the wind right out of Negan's lungs. And just as he was about to ask for Rick to try again just to be sure, too...

 


	8. You Belong To Me Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan knows he's left Rick thinking after the near-tattoo experience with Talin, so he pays the guy a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was yet another request by the lovely cherryjuice! c: They requested a sequel with Negan marking Rick in ways other than with ink, and while I was intending to write some dirty smut to fulfill that request, I ended up writing something semi-sweet? I don't even know, man.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy it regardless!
> 
> Gonna add it to the tags, but this one has rimming in it, so if that's not your cuppa, I apologize!

Rick's in hell.

Well, he's probably been in hell for quite some time, now. His and the rest of Alexandria's situation, let alone the entire damned apocalypse all kind of make for a hellish situation. But that isn't what he means right now. What he means is where he is, and what's going on in his mind.

Not long after the harrowing almost-tattoo experience, Negan made the conscious and very proud decision that Rick would be spending the night at the Sanctuary. It made enough sense that Rick didn't protest, given how late in the day it was when the announcement was made. Besides, he knew Michonne and Carl would keep an eye out for the community.

But here he is, in some room in the Sanctuary, lying on some bed, fucking _thinking about Negan_. He's thinking about being told he's got to learn not to look at the guy a certain way, and he's thinking about the way Negan looked him over like he did. He's thinking about how he rounded on him, put his chin on his shoulder, and got so goddamned close that Rick had actually _melted_ into the feeling. How, for a split second, he had _wanted_ Negan to be that close.

And then he's thinking about how Negan, for the second time, has shown him mercy. For whatever reason, Rick always seems to escape the harsh grasp of Negan's wrath. It's as if Negan gets off just fine on Rick simply being frightened into being a good boy and that's all he needs. Like he doesn't want him dead.

Or maybe Rick's looking too far into it after the events of earlier today. He doesn't recall overthinking it to this extreme before, at least. Either way, he's definitely overthinking it now. Especially since he's on Negan's turf, and Negan could be around any corner, smirking at him from any hallway, ready to give him another reason to turn to warm putty in his grip.

It's terrible, how Rick's starting to think he doesn't mind. He can't bring himself to understand how he could let himself succumb to Negan's forward behavior, but he also doesn't have it in himself to turn it away. Maybe he's always been a little attracted to that sharp tongue and those rabbit-like teeth. Those eyes that, even though they're so goddamned dark with malice, gleam with delight all at the same time. And now that Negan's not threatening him with his life or the life of his loved ones, he has time to process it.

Negan lives here. What if he shows up right now? Will Rick be able to suffocate the urge to just let him have him? Hell, does Negan even _want_ him like that, or is he just always like this with the people he's taken a fancy to?

He said it himself, though...Rick is special.

Even so, sleeping with Negan is essentially sleeping with the enemy. For Rick, physical attraction brings out hunger for emotional attraction, so he's mentally seeking out the validation that maybe Negan isn't as terrible as everyone seems to think he is. Don't get him wrong--the guy is a dick. But when Rick thinks about it, so is he. Hadn't Rick and his people gone out and taken out an entire outpost, after all? Yeah, they had thought they were doing the right thing, but just how much does any of them know about the Saviors?

Nothing is cut and dry anymore, so maybe wanting to be intimate with a guy like Negan isn't so wrong. And it doesn't have to _be_ anything, either. Just two guys getting their rocks off. Releasing some pent up sexual tension.

God, Rick is a mess right now. It isn't like Negan's lying in bed with him and trying to solicit sex or anything. But here he is, fantasizing about it, weighing in the what-ifs, like Negan had outright proposed to him or some shit.

Rick lets out a shaky sigh and rests his palm on his forehead. "Quit while you're ahead." He whispers to himself.

"Quit what?"

And there that motherfucker is. Negan's in the doorway, full uniform with his leather jacket and red bandana, hair all slicked back and teeth bared in a curious smirk. His eyes drink up all Rick has in his stare, and he holds Lucille in his right hand, with her resting on his shoulder. Just like when they met. He talks to Rick like it's nothing--like he hadn't pulled him in close back in that room with Talin there. Because he is apparently impervious to any sexual urges that kind of contact might have generated.

He wants to flat-out tell Negan it's none of his business, but that probably falls into the category of copping an attitude, which Negan has expressed he most certainly does not like. Rick, physically interested in Negan or not, does not want a tattoo of the guy's name on his skin anywhere. And in reality, he's not so certain he would let him tattoo his name onto him. That's what scares Rick more than anything--him lashing out and his family back home suffering for it. He still isn't sure what Negan might do. It's a stance that makes this whole thing feel a little like sleeping with the Devil.

"I asked you a question." Negan's voice deepens, and Rick hates how his body shivers involuntarily when he hears the drop in tone. He wonders what kind of expression comes with that sound, and when he looks back at Negan to see, his body isn't disappointed by the dark eyes devouring his image.

Maybe it isn't completely unfounded for Rick to think that Negan's a little bit thirsty for him too.

"Really wish you wouldn't make me say it." Rick tries.

"Okay," Negan answers with a shrug, "I won't. But the way you say that makes me wonder what exactly the nature of your wandering goddamned thoughts might be." Rick watches him enter the room and take a seat on an armchair not too far from the bed he's currently lying on. He props Lucille gingerly up against the wall next to the furniture, and then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees and get a better look at Rick.

The leather on that jacket smells nice, like it's brand new and Negan hasn't sported it while bashing people's skulls in. Rick inhales the scent as he pushes himself into a sitting position on the edge, facing Negan. He eventually gets to his feet and wanders toward a window with a view that doesn't overlook much. Rick sees the walkers on the fence, and the people working within it, but aside from that and gravel and distant fields, the view leaves a lot to be desired. He doesn't say that, though.

"I'm not gonna try and escape or kill you, if that's what you mean." Rick chooses, his gaze still focused outside. "I'm not that stupid."

"I figured as much." Rick doesn't have to look over to know Negan's shrugging his shoulders again. "And that's what I like about you, Rick. You're in here thinking about shit that you know actually makes _sense_ to think about." Oh Negan, if only you knew. "You're not plotting anything because you know you're _grossly_ outnumbered, and you also know that trying to do so in here makes just about as much sense as drying off before the fucking shower. That said, you still got me wondering what could possibly be circling around in your head right now."

Rick hears Negan shift in the chair not too far from him. It doesn't sound like he's done much more than adjust the way he's sitting, but before he can really think about it, there's a warm body right behind him. Rick's gaze stays locked straight ahead even as he can feel the heat emanating from the taller man's body. Negan isn't touching him yet, but he's damn close, and that's just about as physically stimulating as the actual contact is.

"You don't have to answer if it's that big of a fucking deal, Rick." Negan says, and it feels like every muscle in Rick's body contracts at the low pitch in his voice. "But I'll make it interesting, okay? Yes or no questions. No catch--you just give me the yea or nay."

Rick knows Negan knows he's reacting to the close proximity, mainly because he keeps pushing the envelope. He sees that Rick isn't stopping him, and he's going to keep going. How far he's going to take it, though--that's something Rick's still trying to work out.

"Alright." Rick complies out of sheer curiosity, and he swallows down a violent shudder when he feels the brush of Negan's fingertips beneath the hem of his shirt, grazing that spot just above his pants where his tattoo rests. It's strange, how Rick knows exactly where that one single dot Talin left is, and when Negan's hand drags across it, it twinges just slightly, making his nerves stand straight on end.

"Does it have anything to do with this?" Negan starts, voice deep and breath hot. Rick practically feels the aura shift in the air as the larger man's smirk spreads wider. "Did I scare you? Get you thinking?"

"Wasn't that the point?" The question comes out before Rick can stop it, but going by the way Negan's laughing, he figures it's safe to assume the other man doesn't mind.

Rick feels Negan's arm slide around his waist, still beneath his shirt. He's not sure whether he wants Negan to notice the goosebumps rising on his skin or not. "That wasn't a yes or no answer, Rick."

Okay, there's no stifling the response to the way Negan's body feels as he finally pushes his chest and stomach and everything else flush up against Rick's backside. He gives in and leans back, letting his head fall back onto Negan's shoulder. "Yes...and yes."

Negan whistles, Rick assumes because he's impressed by his bold gesture of approval of the contact being given to him. He seals this approval by moving his hand to rest it on the one curled around his waist. "Next question, Negan." He dares to add, and the chuckle that escapes Negan after that vibrates along his back, like a massage. Rick's quickly finding that the depth in Negan's voice is a point of attraction for him.

"Well..." Negan tips his head, and Rick feels the sharp pull of teeth on the skin of his jawline. He damn near loses his footing right there. "I got a feeling that it's not just that I scared you, or got you thinking. Now, correct me if I'm reading the fucking feng shui wrong here, but I did something like this to you back in that tattoo parlor, if I remember right. Is that what you were lying down in here getting all metaphysical about?"

Now that Negan's got it out in the open, it's a little harder to answer than Rick had prepared himself for. Despite that, he figures he's already leaning back in the Devil's arms, so it's not like he's going to let any more cats out of the bag. At this point, it's all for clarification, and if Rick's being honest, he kind of appreciates that. Negan making sure Rick's interested in what's possibly going to take place here makes him feel a little better about the heat starting to swell up in the crotch of his pants.

"...Yeah."

"Goddamn, Rick." Negan breathes out against the skin of Rick's neck and jaw, tearing out yet another harsh shiver. "You have no fucking idea how hot that mental image is. You all alone in here on your bed, trying not to fondle yourself over thinking about me getting all up in your motherfucking business. That what it was like before I came in here?"

Rick isn't sure how to answer that one--at least not with a yes or no. Because yeah, he was definitely thinking about what would happen if he were to engage in a sexual relationship with Negan, but at the same time, he was also thinking about how wrong it had the potential to be. Hell, even with the erection building in his pants, he's still wondering what good could possibly come of this--constantly wavering back and forth, trying to decide just what is more damaging: fantasizing about sleeping with Negan and letting it consume his thoughts, or just actually doing it, even if only once.

Negan apparently reads his mind, because he continues speaking when the silence drags on long enough. At this point, he's got both arms around Rick's waist and his mouth is on the smaller man's neck. Rick finds he likes the brush of stubble on the sensitive skin there.

"Ooh, actually, lemme fucking guess..." Negan all-but coos against Rick's skin, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the crook of his neck. "I bet your dick's _aching_ for me, but you're scared to let it have what it wants because of our _relationship_. Is that too predictable, or am I right on the fucking money?"

How Negan just magically knows these things is beyond Rick, but he's definitely right on the money. And somehow, a simple 'yes' is harder to manage than Rick wants it to be. Frankly, he wants to wheel around and see if that mouth is as enticing as Rick's starting to think it is--maybe make things go a little more horizontal after kissing him until neither of them can breathe. But, as Negan had put it, their relationship is keeping him from sealing the deal.

What comes next, anyway? Do they make out, fuck, and call it done? Does Rick go back to Alexandria and pretend nothing happened? Is this just something they need to explore and then leave out in the rain to be washed away with time? _What the hell is Rick supposed to do?_

"You gotta talk to me, Rick." Negan reminds in a manner that's almost polite, and Rick notices that he isn't pushing things further--that he's waiting for an answer. He's got the hands around Rick's waist clasped together, and the heated kissing and sucking he'd been doing moments before has been reduced to just resting his chin on Rick's shoulder.

At this point, Rick isn't sure what he expected from Negan in a situation like this.

"You're right." Rick admits with a nod. As he speaks, he turns his head down and looks at the shiny leather of one of Negan's sleeves. His fingers graze tentatively across the material. "I'm supposed to hate you. Thought I did. I don't have _feelings_ for you, but..."

"But you're attracted to me." Negan finishes.

"Yeah." Rick agrees. He feels hot breath on his skin when Negan sighs and backs up, and then his stomach returns to its spot nestled uncomfortably in his throat when the other man removes his hands from Rick's waist and places them on his shoulders, spinning him around. There's a calm smirk on his face, and his eyes flutter shut and then open again, locking onto Rick's.

"Alright, Rick." He says, licking his lips. Rick follows his tongue with his eyes, from one side of his mouth to the other, drinking in the sheen of moisture that it leaves in its wake. "I'm gonna make my move, and I'm gonna give you time to respond." His voice is deep and soft and almost uncharacteristic. Rick remembers hearing him talk like this in that storeroom back in Alexandria, but he doesn't remember feeling almost soothed by it. He remembers being _pissed_. Frustrated and exhausted and angry, though maybe if circumstances had been a little different, he'd have interpreted that fire in the pit of his stomach as what he's taking it to be right now.

Negan's hand finds Rick's chest, pulling him back to the present, as he plays with one of the corners of his collar. "You don't like it? All you've gotta do is push away. I won't jump your bones, and you can get back to trying not to grope yourself in that there bed. But if you do, you just play right on along and we'll proceed to have the biggest, sexiest, _filthiest_ fuckfest you've exposed that undeniably tight ass to. Sound good?"

There's a lot in those words Rick's going to have to think about at some point, but right now, all he can focus on is how slow and deep Negan's voice is, and how close their bodies are. How the anticipation is really starting to reach the point of being unbearable. Negan looks and smells _so good_ , and Rick, even with his doubts and second thoughts, is damn near sold right into this man's embrace.

So he nods, his gaze never even for a second leaving Negan's. Even after those eyes fall shut and Negan shakes his head, still chuckling as if Rick's actually said something funny. He wets his lips again, and then uses the hand on Rick's chest to urge him backward until he's against the window.

Rick isn't sure if Negan's moving slowly or his mind is playing out the entire thing in slow motion, but he's aware of everything either way. Negan's eyes flicker open once more, and as he moves in, his smirk falters and he and Rick fall into the kiss so naturally that Rick doesn't even need time to process whether or not he wants to do this. He's in, and shamelessly so.

Negan's kiss is so different from what he's used to, but so perfect all at the same time. His movements are deliberate and slow, and Rick gets the sneaking suspicion that he's trying to get just as much feeling out of this as Rick himself is. Negan's lips are soft and damp, a stark contrast from the rough texture of the stubble on his face, and as he tips his head into the kiss and closes his lips against Rick's once more, he feels this even more strongly.

Negan is passionate--so much so that Rick is so caught up in the intensity of their lips moving that he doesn't notice the older man's hand cupping the crook of his neck, or the way he's moved in closer, clear until Negan breaks off the kiss. He pulls away just enough that their eyes can meet, and when he exhales and grins, Rick feels the heat of his breath on his own lips.

He doesn't give Negan time to speak. He just shakes his head, curls an arm around Negan's waist, cups his cheek, and pulls him in to continue what he started. He figures that should be answer enough, and apparently, so does Negan, because he's plenty eager to keep going. Their lips part into the kiss in unison, and Rick feels a growl work its way up along Negan's throat as their tongues meet. What started out as a gentle embrace has now become a heated, energized attempt to draw more from one another. Negan's got Rick's back pressed flush against the window by now, his own body so close to Rick's that movement is almost not an option.

Not that Rick minds, because _damn_...

"Whoa, shit..." Negan breaks the silence, moving away from the kiss in favor of dragging his tongue and teeth along the side of Rick's neck. Rick cocks his head and sighs pleasantly into the sensation. "Rick, you really _are_ getting all hot for me, aren't you? Fuck..."

Rick doesn't even have to ask what spurred that reaction, because Negan's knee comes between his legs, and his clothed erection suddenly finds itself privy to a friction so sweet that Rick moans before he can stop himself.

"You're so turned on right now, Rick..." Negan purrs. "You're all hard and brushing up against my thigh when I do this, and look at how you're fucking falling apart for me right now." He kisses Rick's jaw, before he tips his head to whisper into the smaller man's ear. "Not to worry though, because I'm getting there myself."

And then he rocks his hips forward and Rick can feel him too, and god _damn_ , there goes another moan. Rick's body bucks out against the wall, seeking out more of that perfect fucking heat, and for a few moments, the two men allow themselves to get caught up in a fervent sequence of kissing and rolling their bodies against one another.

Rick caves first, though. He's not about to finish in his pants and deal with the teasing that will inevitably come from Negan if he does so, so he pushes back in a display of sudden strength and hunger. "...Bed. C'mon."

And then they're there, and Rick's lying atop Negan, shirtless and halfway through tugging off Negan's clothes. He's got the jacket off and the belts open, and he only stops when Negan takes over getting the white undershirt off, so that he can watch the way the larger man arches his back and pulls that fucker over his head. The way his muscles move, and how _exposed_ he is...

Something about seeing Negan naked screams vulnerability. Like he's giving Rick something that his self-proclaimed badass image spent so much time concealing. It feels like a victory in itself.

"Look at you fucking _go_!" Negan praises once they're both shirtless, as he fumbles with the belt and zipper to Rick's pants. "Somehow I knew you'd be a little spitfire once we got the show on the fucking road. Rick Grimes, you never disappoint."

It's when Negan reaches into the little end table next to Rick's bed that Rick realizes he had intended on trying to sleep with him the entire time. Some part of Rick wants to be offended, but he's about ninety percent _too damned aroused to care_ , and the other ten percent knows better than to be surprised.

Besides, Negan's a good distraction from any wayward thoughts. Rick finds himself being yanked to the side, onto the mattress, where he's suddenly greeted to a whole lot of Negan. He's got his hands on either side of Rick's head as he kisses him again, body rocking down onto his partner's. Rick's hips meet the movements, and he can't stop himself from reaching down and sliding his pants clean off. Afterward, he slides his hands up, curling them into the back pockets of Negan's pants and giving him a hungry little squeeze. He delights in the growl Negan releases in response, before moving to push his pants down, as well.

And then, they're both ass naked in front of one another. Negan sits back to take in the view, and Rick notices the tube in his hand. As his tongue drags across his lower lip and his smirk widens, Rick somehow knows what to do.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Rick slides himself higher up onto the bed, moving out from under Negan. He rolls, and then pushes himself onto his hands and knees. When Negan whistles, Rick knows he's done exactly what he needed to.

"Fucking _fuck_ , look at you." Negan praises. "All ready to get spread wide open for me. Goddamn, you're gonna feel so fucking good."

Rick knows he looks a damn mess. His neck and shoulders are bright red--a mixture of Negan's mouth on his skin and the arousal lighting his body up--and he's all bent over for the other man, cock leaking needily onto the bedsheets. He can't remember ever having fantasized about any sexual tryst with someone like this, but here he is, mentally pleading for Negan to hurry up and give him the release he so desperately wants.

And Negan's not exactly unbothered, either. Rick, upon turning his head to look back at him, can see Negan's full erection, red and glistening and aching to get to business. Negan sports a full-body flush that somehow makes this whole thing a hundred times more arousing--probably something to do with the vulnerability Rick had been thinking about earlier.

Rick watches Negan crawl in close, and when his hands on either side of Rick's ass pull him open, his breath hitches.

There's a warm exhale against Rick's entrance, and then a wet heat that he somehow recognizes as Negan's tongue circling him. Negan's got his nerve endings on fire from everything leading up to now, so the sensations from something as simple as this have Rick losing his mind. At this rate, he's going to come before Negan gets to enjoy his share of their night together.

His hands ball into fists around the sheets, and he tips his head up to release a low moan just as Negan's hand snakes around to his front, curling around his cock. He's somehow managing to work a rhythm into the movements of his tongue and the strokes of his fingers, and Rick is almost embarrassed by how eagerly he rocks back into all of it.

After a few moments, Negan pulls back, laughing, and licks the pre-come from his fingers. Rick watches that smirk fall back onto his lips as he finally puts some use to the lube, squeezing it out onto his fingers.

"You're a fucking work of art, Rick." Negan says, breaking the silence in that perfect, cocky way of his. He talks over the low moan Rick lets out when he pushes a finger into him. "Being all Mister Badass who's about to get fucked in the ass. You're moaning for me already--like my tongue? My fingers? Like it when I do _this_?" He curls his fingers, and for a moment, it's almost like Negan's words are muffled. The sensation hits Rick so hard that he actually catches himself reaching down to grip at the base of his cock to avoid finishing too early. A shaky, choked groan is the verbal response.

"Je- _hee_ -sus, you are gonna lose your mind when I _really_ start fucking you." Negan says, and Rick notices his voice is getting a little more husky. How much longer can this guy wait? "Tell me, have you ever done this before?"

Rick somehow regains enough focus to shake his head.

"Well, shit." The tone in Negan's voice doesn't convey a lot of surprise, despite his words. "Rick, you're gonna come the fuck apart like a fifty-year-old stuffed bear in the washing machine. This, I gotta see."

And like that, he withdraws his fingers and gets to work lubing up his own erection. Rick looks back just in time to see this, and to see Negan beckoning him backward. He obeys by scooting back, and delights in the sight of Negan sitting down on his knees, legs spread wide, as he awaits his partner.

Negan's hand finds one of Rick's hips, and he settles him into position atop his legs. As his other hand steadies his cock, he pulls Rick down onto it, and they both release a moan at that point. Negan fills him up in such a way that Rick loses focus again, even once he's fully impaled himself on the other man. He feels Negan shift, though, and when he looks down and behind him, he sees that he's got his weight braced on his right hand and his left is moving up to curl around Rick's waist.

He also notices how Negan waits. He's giving Rick time to adjust, and he's offering to him a certain level of control. How is it that with a dick in his ass and a mind hazier than smoke in a grease fire, Rick can still find it in himself to be flattered?

Because that's something he is right now.

Either way, once he can think straight, Rick starts moving. He delights in the way Negan's breath hitches as he pulls his body up, and even more so the groan that follows when he pushes down.

"That's right, baby..." Negan urges, teeth and lips and tongue praising the skin of Rick's back. "Keep fucking yourself on me. You feel so fucking good."

Rick likes this angle. It makes it easier to bear up and down on Negan, and the other man has just enough space between them to meet Rick's movements with thrusts of his own. It's only a matter of time before their pace becomes steady and heated, and Rick's starting to feel like he's not going to last long again. His back is arching into each movement, and even Negan's stopped talking, just focusing on the heat between them.

The room's anything but quiet, though. The mutual groans of both men fill the air plenty, in time with the creaking of the mattress beneath them. Rick's bouncing hard, hissing and cursing and moaning as Negan pushes him ever closer. He can feel Negan's nails digging into his thighs, and even though it's not in coherent sentences, Negan's cursing about how good it feels or how sexy Rick is right now, how long he's wanted to fuck him like this.

And just when it's about to be too much, Rick pulls back. He's got one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft and the other pushes him up until he can grip onto the headboard. As he reaches up with the other hand, he tilts his head back and almost laughs at the expression of shock and confusion on Negan's face.

"I'm close." Rick says. "But I'm not done. C'mere, and go _harder_." After all, Negan promised he'd make him scream, right?

"Don't have to fucking ask me twice." Negan growls, and in a matter of seconds, he's on his knees, one hand on either side of Rick's ass, and pushing hard into him.

He makes good on his promise from the very first thrust. He's fucking up and forward, as if he knows exactly where he needs to go to drag Rick over the edge, and he's doing it so hard that Rick's grip on the headboard is absolutely necessary.

It feels different from what Rick initially expected if he's going by that first kiss, but he finds he likes the contrast. Negan is a man of many contrasts. Soft words contrast against rough realities, and dark eyes stand out against a gentle kiss. He's an asshole, and yet he's somehow _not_ , and Rick is still trying to decide how to interpret that.

But he'll worry about that later, because right now, his orgasm is tearing him right back to the present, and Negan _gets_ his scream. It's a slurry of different words, though some of them might be interpreted as Negan's name and the word 'fuck' if one listens closely enough. He shamelessly rides out his release on Negan's almost violent thrusts, and finds victory in the heat that suddenly fills him up when Negan finishes, too.

And then there's silence. Silence and panting and the low rumble of Rick's bloodstream in his ears. He's shaking, sweaty hands faltering on the headboard, and he quivers involuntarily when Negan pulls out and sits back.

The sheets are a mess, which Negan apparently notices. Out of breath, he motions to them. "I'll get a guy to, uh, switch these out."

Rick doesn't get time to think about everything that has happened until hours later. Negan keeps him plenty occupied the rest of that time. Rick doesn't know exactly where he stands with this guy, but going by how willing Negan is to blow him in the shower, and then again halfway through a game of War with playing cards, he's got to be _somewhere_.

And Rick isn't sure if that's what he wants or not. He's going to be heading back to Alexandria in the morning, and he can already tell by how things are going now that he's going to miss Negan even before he gets back.

Which isn't a good thing. He's got shit to do, and Negan still has them in a situation that's nothing short of unpleasant. Last person he needs to be fantasizing about is the one pulling the strings in this shitty situation.

But apparently, Rick observes as Negan crawls atop him for the third time that night, he's just going to have to cross that bridge when he gets there.

It's going to be a rough one.

 


	9. Until You're Ready - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's still questioning his relationship with Negan. He does some soul-searching and finally comes to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cherryjuice on here requested a sequel to "Until You're Ready", with lots of fluff. They also requested in the past a fluffy oneshot with Carl and Negan being dicks to one another, playing with Judith, a bunch of cuteness, and a nice dollop of smut to follow it up with. I decided to fuse the two, mainly because requesting a sequel to an already-fluffy work just seemed like the perfect opportunity to incorporate their request.
> 
> I hope you like it, friend! c:
> 
> Enjoy, everyone!

Rick falls fast and hard the very instant Negan tells him his feelings. He still remembers the stillness in the air around them when Negan had told him in that car that he was in love with him, and how serious he had been. He still remembers how intense and honest and nervous Negan had been, and just how much passion he'd shown in that first kiss. Rick still remembers the world dissipating around him as he became Negan's--all Negan's.

And he's still falling. It seems like every day, there's something new he adores about Negan. Negan, whose personality could probably use some work, but Rick doesn't want to change for the world. Negan, who curses every other sentence and talks about his dick like it's cotton candy. Gruff Negan, surly Negan, self-proclaimed badass Negan. Negan, Negan, Negan.

And if Rick doesn't have another reason to adore him, he's allowing them to take this as slowly as Rick needs. He promised in the car that he wouldn't do anything until Rick was ready, and he's holding good to that promise.

He probably understands in his own way. For Negan, escaping everything related to Lucille's death had been closing himself off to emotion and attachments and feelings. While he swears up and down that he'd been an asshole long before he and Lucille had ever met, he acts like he became worse after she passed away. Sarcastic and vulgar are a couple of hard-to-swallow traits, but when you throw in that lack of trust in people sticking around, you do tend to behave a little more coldly.

And Rick knows Negan saw that in him when they met at the hospital. Rick didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to deal with anyone. When Carol took Carl and Judith to her house while he recovered in the hospital, his intentions had been simple--he was going to get better, get home, and raise his children. He didn't want to 'heal' or get a therapist or anything like that. He just wanted to continue existing until the gaping wound that was his wife's death scabbed over.

But Negan pushed when they were there. Lucille's death had happened long before his visit to that hospital, and Rick knew Negan had heard a few things about what had happened to him, so it was no surprise his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He never outright asked. Instead, he tried to strike up conversation every chance he got. He tried asking Rick what channel he wanted to watch on the television. He tried offering to help him to the restroom. He even limp-walked with his IV pole in one hand and retrieved a washcloth for Rick to wipe his eyes with one time.

To this day, it still doesn't surprise Rick that he caved and started talking to Negan within two days. They went to physical therapy together, they ate together, and Negan stayed right by his side as he cried and came clean about Lori on the fourth day.

Despite all this understanding, Rick is still overwhelmingly impressed by Negan's patience. He can tell that now that the feelings are out in the open, he wants to show Rick just how much he cares on a more physical level, and to an extent, Rick complies. They haven't taken things all the way yet, but Rick knows Negan wants to.

It's not about losing 'virginity', or about Negan taking it. It's about making sure this is the right call. Rick loves Negan. He loves him more and more each day--every single time he sees him playing with Judith or trying to beat Carl's new high score, or drinking with Abraham. It seems like every little thing Negan does pulls him further under, and he doesn't regret it one bit. And his mother's words about taking this while he can and running with it...they hang heavy in his mind.

But he's still scared. Not _of_ Negan. No, it's more that he's worried that if he _does_ take this, the world's going to take it away all over again. And he can't lose someone else the way he lost Lori. And he sure as shit doesn't want something to happen to him and Negan have to deal with loss all over again. Relationships, love...it's all so dangerous. You want to dedicate your entire life to someone, and you're _happy_ to do it. But there's no telling what the future holds, and that's _terrifying_ to Rick.

Never again does he want to sit in silence in a hospital room or at home or anywhere. Never again does he want to mourn the way he did. And the other meaning to Mary's words was very obviously that a relationship like this won't happen again.

After Negan, there's no one else. Never again.

Rick struggles with this on a daily basis. He comes home from work and starts on dinner, and Negan swoops up behind him and pulls him in close from behind. He kisses Rick's shoulders and neck softly, but so very passionately--makes him melt every goddamn time. Negan tells him every day how much he loves him, and Rick wants to come apart right there for him. Sometimes, they'll engage in some pretty intense kissing and Rick will feel the brush of Negan's cock through his pants on his thigh, or hear the shaky breathing that makes it clear he's aroused, and Rick will be right there with him. Hell, he gets turned on just by hearing the sweet nothings Negan has to whisper into his ears.

But he just can't bring himself to do it. Even after he's invited Negan to move in with him and his family, he still can't. It's been a couple of months now, and Rick still hasn't given Negan the okay to take things to the next level.

Sometimes, he can tell how frustrating it is for Negan. The guy is a sexual being. He's already got an intense sex drive as it is, and Rick knows he very much gets some of his intimacy out of sexual behavior. Rick tries to sate him with nighttime groping sessions or quick handjobs in the bathroom, but he can tell it's getting difficult to hold back.

He knows how Negan feels about forcing sex on anyone though, so he's at least certain the man will never do something like that to him.

Negan's surprisingly mature with how he handles it, though. He gets irritated, and Rick can tell, but he goes off, does his own thing, and almost always comes back with the same amount of emotion he's always had for Rick when he's done. Rick just mentally tells himself to come up with a good way to make it up to him when they finally do decide to go there.

Which, by the way, he fully intends to do.

It's not much easier on Rick, to be honest. His dick gets just as hard, and his breath just as labored, face just as flushed. He wants to know what it feels like to get so very inseparably intimate with him, and he wants to know how Negan handles moments like that. He wants to touch every inch of skin he can get his hands on, and to let Negan explore him freely. He loves him so very much.

It's complicated and damn frustrating.

Tonight, it's just Rick and Carl. Negan is off keeping Simon company during one of his rare night shifts at the prison, and Judith is spending the night with her grandparents. Carl, who has a baseball game tomorrow, has opted to stay home as a result. They spend most of their day together watching movies on Netflix, but Carl eventually manages to talk Rick into trying out The Evil Within with him. Rick's not very good at it, so the end result is Carl playing and Rick helping him spot things. It's as he's located the tenth statue so far that Carl pauses the game and decides they need to celebrate their copious findings with ice cream sundaes. He pushes himself to his feet and makes his way into the kitchen, and Rick follows.

After placing ice cream, sprinkles, and strawberry and chocolate syrup on the counter, he looks up to meet his father's gaze. Rick can tell by the way he's looking that he has something to say to him.

"So, Negan." Carl starts, and Rick initially wonders if he's about to divulge some big opinion about the guy to him. He almost laughs at the thought, because Carl and Negan have always been pretty sarcastic among one another, and Rick can tell by the way Carl's adopted some of the guy's...er...linguistic tendencies, that he's grown quite attached to him.

"What about him?" Rick scoops out ice cream for both himself and Carl, while his son retrieves two cream sodas from the fridge.

"Well, you know how he is." Carl squirts an unhealthy amount of chocolate syrup onto his sundae--so much that Rick thinks it might spill out of the bowl. "When he does stuff, he _does_ it. He's really extravagant about it, y'know?"

Rick nods and takes the syrup from his son, half out of concern for his blood sugar level and half so he can put some on his ice cream before it's gone. "I know."

"Your birthday's coming up." Carl reminds, as if his father doesn't know. "And he's got something planned." He barely fits what counts as too many sprinkles atop his more-chocolate-than-ice-cream concoction. "I've been sworn to secrecy, but I know what it is, and I think you'll really like it, but I know he's gonna tell you in one of his weird, Negan ways."

Rick's eyebrows raise up as he takes a bite of his own ice cream. "Yeah?"

Carl nods. "All I'm saying is, brace yourself. He's strange enough to me, so with you guys being boyfriends and all, it's probably gonna get pretty weird."

Rick can't stop the snort that escapes him in response to that. "Thanks for the warnin', son."

The rest of the night goes pretty uneventfully. Carl and Rick are absorbed enough in their game that they stay up clear through to morning playing it. It's only when they realize they're too tired and incoherent for Carl to stand a chance against the two Keepers that they retire to bed. It's about four in the morning when Rick crawls into bed, and he passes out almost immediately.

\- - - - -

It's almost two in the afternoon when Rick finally awakens again, and this time, he wakes up to Negan's face. He's got an arm slung lazily over Rick's waist, lying on his stomach with his face half-buried in his pillow and his hair all over the place. This is a side of Negan that no one else gets to see. Even though he and Negan have known one another for quite some time now, Negan's always been careful to present himself to Rick with his hair slicked back almost perfectly and his favorite clothes on his back.

But now that they've decided they're together, Negan sleeps in Rick's bed. Negan wakes up with messy hair, blanket-wrinkle indents on his skin, morning wood, and sometimes even with a little drool running down his cheek. And Rick gets to see all of it. Even as he watches him put himself back together, he loves him more and more for it.

When he shifts to crawl out of bed and get in the shower, he feels Negan's finger hook into the back pocket of his pants and pull him back down.

"Get back here." Negan's voice is heavy with sleep, but Rick obeys and slides down to lie next to his boyfriend. Negan's hazy eyes dart back and forth along Rick's face, and he just grins. "How was Father/Son night?"

"Went alright." Rick answers. "We stayed up all night playin' videogames. Didn't go to sleep until around four."

Negan whistles. "He sucks you right in with that shit, your son."

"Guess so." Rick laughs. "How was the prison?"

"Boring as _shit_." Negan stretches out every word. "No wonder Simon wanted company. Not a damn thing happened--we just stayed up listening to every fucking Eagles CD he has and playing War with an old deck of cards the night guards apparently keep around for just that goddamned reason. Simon owes me lunch for every hour he made me stay at that fucking place with him."

"I'm sure he appreciates the company." Rick responds. "I get the impression he doesn't usually work nights?"

"He'd lose his job in a heartbeat if he did." Negan grunts. "Fucker almost fell asleep like three times last night."

Rick just chuckles and leans in for a quick kiss, before pushing himself up and off the bed once more. "Good thing he had you. Anyway, I'm gonna go take a shower. Gotta pick Judy up soon." Even despite having been up so late with Carl, Rick is still surprised he slept as long as he did.

"You got it, babe. I'm gonna steal a few more hours, alright?" Negan's face is back to its spot half-molded into his pillow as he speaks.

"Okay. I'll wake you up when Judy and I get back." He gives his partner a wave before disappearing into the bathroom, trying to will down the tightness in his chest and his pants. It literally doesn't take much anymore, especially since Rick still hasn't given them the green light to do what he knows they both want to do.

\- - - - -

When Rick gets back, Negan is already awake. He and Judith come in just in time to see him cheering Carl through the same Keeper fight he and Rick were still hard at work at this morning. He seems to be making some progress though, and even though he knows Judith probably shouldn't be watching this kind of game be played, he stops to observe. All four of them are sucked right up into the screen, clear until Carl finally manages to snag the win, and a new cutscene starts.

"Hey, you finally got past it." Rick observes, awed.

"Finally is right." Carl laughs. He pauses the cutscene as Judith hops into his lap and gives his sister a hug. Carl and Judith have always been close, and he'll damn near put everything aside for her. Even the videogame he's obviously been dying to finish ever since he got started.

Either way, as he talks to Judith about her school day, Rick makes his way into the kitchen to figure something out for supper. He eventually settles on reheats of some lasagna Negan made the previous night. Rick's not a fantastic cook, so when Negan makes something, it tastes damn near like restaurant quality by comparison.

He pulls the dish from the fridge and starts putting slices onto plates to microwave when he suddenly feels arms around him. No surprise there--Negan's probably starved for affection, considering how little of one another the two men have gotten today. Rick spins in his grip, and after making sure the kids are plenty distracted talking, indulges in a few slow, heated kisses. Negan urges him back against the counter and pushes his hands down to grip Rick's ass as he tips his head into the kiss. As Rick parts his lips and allows it to deepen, he feels Negan slide his hands into his back pockets and pull him closer against him.

Oh, goddamn...

He knows better than to let it get too intense right now, so he eventually pushes back and stares up at Negan, his cheeks flushed vividly. "...Good to see you, too." He voices breathily.

"I can tell." Negan chuckles, before he nods down and takes a step back. "Check your pockets."

Rick frowns, but does as he's told. He slides his hands into the pockets that had at one point been filled with Negan's hands, and sure enough, feels something papery in each one. He withdraws four printouts and furrows his brow.

"...Plane tickets to..." Whoa. "Hawaii?"

Negan looks proud of himself. "Yep. For your birthday. It's gonna be the four of us, as a big happy fucking family."

"Negan..." Rick remembers Carl's warning, but he figures a quick make-out session and some ass groping isn't exactly what he had been ready to brace for. He _likes_ those things.

"You know how banks start selling packages for family vacations around this time of year? Well, they had one hell of a good deal on a bomb-ass fucking ocean view villa. Ocean view, Rick! Figured you, me, and the kids could all go there and give ourselves some much needed TL-fucking-C, yeah?"

According to the plane tickets, the trip starts on the Thursday after Rick's birthday and lasts through that Monday. It's during the school year though, so Rick's going to have to get the kids out of classes for three days, not counting the weekend. No big deal, though. Considering how much Negan probably blew on getting this set up, he hardly has it in him to refuse.

Besides, _fucking_ Hawaii!

"I can't believe you did this." Rick says amidst a laugh, and Negan just sweeps him up into another kiss.

\- - - - -

"It's okay, baby."

Rick's trying to calm Judith down as the plane gears for takeoff. Six years old is awfully young for anyone to be in a plane, so it's no big surprise when Judith makes it clear she's terrified of the takeoff process. She's got a window seat, which Carl traded over for her, in the hopes that being able to see what's going on would help, but it doesn't seem to be working. The poor girl is pale with fear and her big eyes are so wide they look like they might pop right out of her sockets.

Carl's never flown before, but he's handling it much better than Judith. He's leaning over in his new seat next to his father to address his sister, who is sitting next to Negan. The girl whimpers as the three men address her, seemingly unapproachable altogether right now.

"I don't wanna fly! Can't we just drive?" She sniffles, and Negan shakes his head. Rick observes as he pulls her into a quick side-hug.

"We can't, Princess." He ruffles the little girl's hair and peers out the window. "We're gonna have to cross some water, and there's no way to do that by car. But it'll be okay. Planes do this all the time."

Judith whimpers again. "...But it's so loud..."

"Yeah, and so are you." A voice says from behind them. Rick almost immediately sees fire behind Negan's eyes, and out of pure instinct, swings a hand out to stop him from turning around and opening his mouth. Negan shoots him a glare, but relaxes anyway and focuses back on Judith.

"It won't be that way the whole time, sweetie. I promise." He kisses the top of her head.

"But what if we crash?" Judith's eyes are welling up all over again, and Rick's heart cracks. He's half-tempted to unbuckle his own seatbelt so he can move in front of her and offer her some reassurance. Thankfully, Negan seems to be doing a good enough job. It looks rough right now, but they're well on their way to getting the girl calmed down.

"We're not gonna crash." Negan shakes his head. "I would never put you through that, okay?"

There's some hesitation, but Judith eventually nods and snuffles out one last, "Mm-hmm."

"About damn time." The voice behind them says again, and this time, Rick doesn't stop Negan. He hears the click of the other man releasing the lock on the seatbelt, and then he and Carl watch as Negan rounds on the man behind them, eyes narrowed.

"You know how old this girl is?" He demands. The man, who Rick notices is wearing one of those stereotypical vacation shirts with the big flowers on it, shakes his head, his bright green eyes never once leaving Negan's face. "She's _six_. And this happens to be her first flight. How old are you, asshole?"

The man pauses, and then clears his throat. "Thirty-six."

"Thirty-six." Negan repeats. "Thirty-six, and you're acting less mature than a six-year-old. Congratu-fucking-lations, you've managed to make yourself look like a giant goddamned toolshed. No, fuck that--you're the whole shit-fucking-cock-sucking Home Depot."

Under normal circumstances, Rick would have stopped Negan about three curses ago. But at present, he sees no desire to. It's kind of nice to watch the guy cower in his seat under the sheer weight of Negan looming over him. So instead, he just watches proudly as Negan defends his daughter.

"So, thirty-six." Negan starts again. "You're going to let my little girl here have her perfectly natural reaction to her first flight, and you're going to zip that trigger-ass-happy flytrap you call a mouth, lock that shit up, and shove the key _straight_ up your rectum, and you're going to sit on it and cry silent man tears about how royally fucked you are in the head for bitching out a _child_."

Rick hears Carl snicker to himself as Negan flops the man's tray table down in the last wind of his tantrum. "Enjoy your flight." And then he turns, plops back down into his seat, buckles himself in, and sighs in satisfaction. All four of them laugh when the attendant approaches soon after and demands Thirty-Six put his tray table back into the upright position in preparation for the flight.

Negan then shoots Judith a smile so warm that it melts Rick a little, too. "That guy is the only thing negative thing about flying in an airplane, Princess."

And then they're off. Judith takes the initial burst of speed extremely well, and when the plane lifts off, it takes less than a second for her to have her face glued to the window, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as the ground beneath them gets smaller and smaller. Carl complains a little about atmospheric pressure, but beyond that, the flight goes surprisingly well. Thirty-Six doesn't say a single word, and when the flight lands, he even gives Judith an apologetic little wave, to which the girl and Negan both smile sweetly at him in response.

Hotel check-in is easy enough. Negan handles the process while Rick, Carl, and Judith stare out the massive windows, where they can see the beach, the lush greenery surrounding it, and people everywhere having a good time. Judith is immediately begging to go swimming, which Rick promises they can do just as soon as they get done settling into their hotel rooms.

Negan soon sidles up behind them, room keys in hand, and nods for them to follow. The hotel is huge, and it actually takes quite a bit of walking to get to the elevator. They ride five floors up, and then exit into wide hallways. The doors are spread far apart, which tells Rick the rooms inside are pretty large. And he's right--Negan has somehow managed to book them a two-bedroom, two-bathroom villa, complete with living room and kitchen and a massive balcony with a direct view of the beach.

It's amazing, and Rick finds himself wondering yet again how he managed to get so lucky with a guy like this. Rick knows Negan doesn't have much in the vein of self-worth, but he's willing to carry that part, himself. He's going to make sure Negan knows just how much he means to him one day. It might not be with an expensive vacation package, but he'll figure something out.

For now, he heads to his and Negan's bedroom, dropping both their bags into the closet. Judith comes padding into the room as well, half-stripped out of her clothes already.

"Can we go swimming, now?"

\- - - - -

If Rick had gotten his way, they'd have all settled in for a nap before going swimming, but Judith's excitement is contagious, and with Negan trying to pluck Carl's phone out of his hand, he ends up conceding and deciding that yes, swimming is a good idea.

So here they are, at the beach. Rick has managed to get sunscreen on Judith just in time for her to bound off closer to the water, and Carl is hurriedly trying to put some on his skin so he can go out and play with her.

"What's the rush, kid?" Negan questions, amusement heavy in his voice. "I'll go out there with her--you take your time, alright?"

"Nope." Carl retorts as he hands the sunscreen to Rick, who starts lathering it into his back. "You're not getting into the water before me. Besides, I know that this vacation is going to have you and dad being all mushy the whole time, and I frankly don't want to watch."

Negan scoffs. "The mushy stuff comes later, kiddo."

"Stop." Carl groans, as he plops down and works on his legs. "I don't even want to know."

"Let's just say you're going to need headphones. Hope you brought some." Rick's not crazy about Negan using their relationship to gross Carl out, but he lets it slide this time around.

"Oh, come on."

It's as Negan starts singing ' _Can You Feel The Love Tonight_ ' that Carl promptly vacates the scene, moving to catch up with his sister. Rick's been keeping an eye on her, and he can tell she's been waiting on Carl before actually venturing out into the water. But soon enough, there they are. Rick and Negan are perched on beach chairs, complete with a giant umbrella to keep the sun from bearing too violently down on them.

Rick shakes his head. "You're gonna corrupt the kid."

"Please." Negan retorts as he shoots Rick a sideways grin. "The boy's pushing eighteen. In this day and age, he's heard way fucking worse. You ever heard him play on Xbox Live?"

"...No?" Rick raises both eyebrows apprehensively.

"You'd regret buying him that twelve-month card for his birthday if you did."

Rick resists the urge to throw sand at his boyfriend. "He gets the cussin' part from you, Negan." And in his defense, it's totally possible. Carl was still pretty young when Judith was born and Negan became a part of his life.

"I'm not talking about bad words, Rick."

And going by the smirk, Rick can tell exactly what he's getting at. He doubts Carl's ever taken it too far, but the thought of him saying certain things over a microphone to a bunch of strangers still makes his skin crawl a little.

He pushes the thought aside. "So what next?"

When Negan shrugs, Rick realizes he didn't plan that far. Not that he blames him, because it honestly just feels nice to get away for a while. The air here smells like the sea, and the sound of children playing beats the drawl of the television or the different beeps and buzzes the station makes at work. Judith and Carl are having a blast, and they've rounded up with a couple other kids, who they're now bouncing a beach ball around with.

This beats the dull roar of everyday life by a long shot. At least, right now.

"I'm thinking food." Negan finally says. "There's a little beachside place I saw on the way to the hotel. What do you think?"

Almost as if prompted by Negan's suggestion, Rick's stomach growls. He's sure the other man hears it, so he just smiles sheepishly. "...Yeah."

They spend their time in the beach chairs, just watching the children have a good time. Negan flirts a little, but Rick notices he's trying to keep it to a minimum. He almost wants to ask why, but he keeps it to himself. Instead, they just...talk. Like they had at the hospital, and like they had so many times at Rick's house. Like they still do on a regular basis. They've chatted for hours before going to sleep at night, and this kind of feels like that. Rick almost feels compelled to fall asleep, but he somehow manages to avoid it.

But after a couple of hours, they decide it's time to reel the kids back in. Negan ushers them into the showers once they get back to their hotel rooms ("Kids, you do _not_ want to feel the burn of dried-on sand and saltwater during this vacation"), and then they're off to the restaurant.

Negan tells the staff it's Rick's birthday (even knowing it's been several days since then), and the crew sings him a song in a language he doesn't understand. He's a little embarrassed, but he thanks them raspily when they're done. Negan and Carl are _rolling_ with laughter by the time they leave, and Rick throws slices of bread at both of them for it. He snickers when Judith joins in.

They eat, and then walk slowly back to the hotel. Considering their arrival to the hotel had been in the afternoon, it's no surprise that the sun is already starting to set. The air around them has cooled somewhat, and the breeze feels nice. Rick inhales every bit of it, and then exhales slowly. He takes Negan's hand with one of his own, and holds Judith's with the other. Carl's on the other side of his sister, holding her other hand. And they just enjoy it, clear back to the entrance of the hotel.

Judith and Carl pass out almost immediately. Judith snuggles up to her brother in her bed and goes right to sleep, and while Rick can tell Carl's trying to stay awake and message someone on his phone, he's nodding off. Eventually, he's out like a light.

Rick's standing in the doorway, watching. He's smiling softly to himself, so lost in his own world that when an arm suddenly extends over his shoulder, he damn near socks the offender. Negan snaps a quick picture of the sleeping siblings beforehand, and just barely manages to dodge the incoming attack. He laughs as Rick half gasps for breath, half pulls the door shut.

"Asshole!" Rick whisper-screams. "What if you woke them up!?"

Negan just grins. "They'd shit themselves a little and go back to sleep. No biggie, Rick."

Rick scowls. "Whatever. Are you ready for bed?"

"Actually," when Rick looks back up at his boyfriend, he sees a hint of anxiety in Negan's expression, "can I talk to you about something?"

Rick frowns, and any momentary irritation he had for Negan fades instantly. He nods slowly. "Yeah, go ahead...what's wrong, Negan?"

When that nervous look breaks into a smile, Rick notices how soft his features are. Negan's a sharp guy. His edges, his words, and his personality are all sharp and abrasive and sometimes hard to approach. These are all things Rick has learned to embrace. But when he sees him like this, he has to swallow down a lump of apprehension. What the hell could make Negan look like that?

"Nothing's wrong, Rick." He finally answers. "In fact, it's all right. Fucking peachy. Life honestly couldn't get any goddamned better right now if it bent over and shit out fifty million dollars and a ticket to Disneyland."

God. Negan and his words. Rick figures he should be laughing, but instead, his body lights up with a warmth he recognizes all too well--the same warmth he felt in that car when Negan had kissed him for the first time.

"But I'm a needy guy. I'm just gonna keep looking at life and asking it what it can do to make shit even better. And I think it finally gave me a good answer." He clears his throat, and then swivels a finger in one little circle. "Turn around, Rick."

Rick hesitates, but complies soon enough. At the very least, Negan's request has him facing the balcony, where the view is...really nice. It looks even better at nighttime, and with the cool air, Rick knows it's sure to be pretty damn amazing out there.

"You can go out if you want." Negan laughs. "I can practically smell your fucking thirst for that ocean air, you know."

Rick just rolls his eyes, though he doesn't hesitate to take Negan's suggestion. He slides the door open and steps outside. Immediately, he's greeted to the cool breeze and moisture in the air he was hoping for. Naturally, he makes his way to the rail and rests his elbows on it. He hears Negan sigh, and the low whisper of him psyching himself into doing whatever he's going to do, and then feels that oh-so-familiar embrace from behind him. Negan's body is so warm compared to the cool air, and Rick instinctively leans back into the contact.

He feels Negan's hands massaging his shoulders, and he can't stop himself from tipping his head back to rest it on his partner's shoulder.

"This is gonna sound so weird to you." Negan thinks out loud. "And so fucking forward. Hell, for your sake, I'm still contemplating backing out on what I'm about to do."

Rick lets the words course down his body like water, slowly taking in everything Negan says, as his hands travel further down, along his arms, to his wrists, before finally closing around his fingers. He shudders at the warm press of Negan's lips on the back of his neck and waits for him to continue speaking. Eventually, he does, and Rick notices that it's only after a breath of air that quivers with uncertainty.

"I love you, Rick. I meant that when I told you the first time, and I mean even fucking more it now. And I don't want you to think any of this has to be solid unless you want it to. So..." Rick feels his throat bob as he swallows, and then feels something cold and metal slide onto a certain finger on his left hand. He wheels around, eyes wide and locking onto Negan's. The older man backs away a step, just so Rick can see his face.

"It's not an engagement, and it's not a proposal." He says. "I know you're still figuring your shit out, but I just...you gotta know how fucking real this is to me, Rick. So...consider this a sort of letter of intent."

Rick looks down at the ring around his finger. It's a plain silver band, but to Rick, it gleams like the water on the beach, and for a moment, the glimmer swims around in his gaze like it belongs there. He turns his attention back up to Negan.

"Like a promise ring." When Rick thinks of promise rings, he thinks of high school kids who think they're in love, but are too young to marry. So he kind of gets why Negan didn't call it that. But it sure as shit sounds like that, and Rick isn't compelled to change that thought in his mind. Nor does he feel like taking the ring off. It feels too right on his finger.

"...If that's what tickles your nuts just right, fine." Negan shrugs. "...Does it? Tickle your nuts, I mean?"

There's a moment of silence after that. Rick just stares at Negan, before the silence suddenly starts buzzing. And then the buzzing gets louder and louder until it's unbearable, and Rick breaks it with laughter. He braces back on the rail behind him and just bursts out into fits of amusement. He can sense that Negan's not sure what he's seeing, and he's probably on the verge of telling Rick he didn't realize such an important thing was so hilarious, so he raises a hand--the one with the ring on it--and stops him before he can start.

"You know what it does to me, Negan?" He questions, noticing the way the other man's staring at him. He's dumbfounded, and Rick loves it. He quirks his head to the side, grinning warmly at him. "It reminds me that while you may be an asshole, and you might piss and moan left and right about shit that ain't that big a deal...while you pride yourself in your attitude and act like you're some tough guy most of the time, you're actually just a big giant damned softie. You can be hateful and rude, but I've seen it, Negan."

And then Rick's smile grows genuine. "In how you talk to Judy, and to Carl. How you handle me. When you love someone, you do it with your whole heart." He looks down at the ground. "When you told me your feelings after that date at my parents' house, I knew you were bein' honest. And I knew I loved you, but I freaked out. I had a lot to think about--it was so sudden. Didn't really know what to do with myself, and I didn't want to run away from it, either. My mom said somethin' to me before that--told me that you were good for me, and that I should take this and run with it. So I did."

Negan looks like a deer in the headlights, maybe if the headlights were projecting a good movie into its vision. He's listening so intently that Rick almost feels like he's speaking directly into the other man's soul.

He continues while he has the man's attention. "I trust my mother. Somewhere, I always knew she was right. But I didn't want to feel like I was jumpin' off her wings and holdin' you down. I didn't want you to think you had somethin', and then lose my mind and back off at the last minute. I wanted to make sure this was good for both of us." The words come far more easily than Rick could have ever expected. He guesses it's because it's about damn time he said them. "And now, I know it is."

Just when Rick's sure Negan's eyes can't get any wider, they do. He's never seen the man look this comically surprised. It's yet another facet to the ever-complex Negan that's reserved just for Rick. It feels like he can have him--like he can have _all_ of him. And goddamn it, he's going to _take_ it all.

"Negan." Rick motions with both hands for the other man to approach. "C'mere." Once he obeys, Rick slides his arms around his partner's waist. He swallows down the last bit of unease and throws caution to the wind. "This can be an engagement. I want it to be...if you do."

Negan's still flabbergasted. But once the words seem to process in his mind, he nods slowly. "Yeah. I do. More than I've wanted anything in years."

"Then that's what it is." Rick chuckles, and then pulls Negan down for a kiss. "I love you. And I'm about to show you just how much."

So he does. He's kissing Negan again, throwing every ounce of heart he can into it. His eyes squeeze shut and he sinks right into that kiss. He doesn't remember when his hands ended up buried in Negan's reddish T-shirt, but they are, and they're in tight fists, not letting up until he needs to come up for air. When he pulls away, his vision is almost blurred from how intense the whole thing was, and looking into Negan's eyes, he can tell that the sensation is mutual.

He doesn't remember how he and Negan get from that balcony to their bedroom, but they do. He urges Negan back onto the bed, and covers the other man with his body. His hands are everywhere--on Negan's face and his shoulders and chest, before going back up to run through his hair. His lips move slowly, but deliberately. He takes his time with every little gesture, making damn sure Negan feels how perfectly their mouths fit together, and how their bodies belong atop one another like this. It's only a matter of time before Rick's using the heels of his hands to push up on Negan's shirt.

But Negan stops him. He breaks off the kiss, and when Rick pulls back to look at him, he can tell that the other man didn't want to do so. "Rick, wait...are you sure?"

They've gotten this heated before without it actually leading to sex. But somehow, Negan seems to know exactly what Rick's going for. And he genuinely seems worried. "...Yeah, Negan. I am."

"Think about it. Please." Negan implores, and Rick notices the way his eyes search his face for any sign of doubt. "I mean, I've been wanting this for so fucking long, but you don't have to feel obligated to."

"I don't." Rick sits back and tries again at Negan's shirt. This time, his boyfriend obeys. "I want this. Hell, I've wanted it for a long time. I just didn't want you to get screwed over if I had second thoughts after. You might not see it this way, but this...what we're about to do...it seals the deal for me, Negan. After tonight, I'm yours. Forever."

And he hopes Negan sees it in his eyes--how sure of this he is. And it's not the not-proposal Negan made, or the vacation, or anything like that that solidified it. Honestly, it boils right back to that moment in the car, when Negan stripped himself bare to tell Rick exactly how he felt. And just now, when he did the same thing. It's the fact that he knows the man's being genuine, and how he knows from the way Negan talks about Lucille that he will be held dear.

He knows they're in for the long run, and he's perfectly fine with that.

"You're a real piece of fucking work, Rick Grimes." Negan finally says, and then it's he who pulls Rick down again.

They're quiet for a handful of moments, as they allow themselves to get caught up in one another. Negan's fingers roam over Rick's chest and back and sides, and as their lips close together in another heated kiss, he slides his hands down into the back of Rick's jeans, cupping his ass. Using the grip, he pulls Rick down onto him, and the friction elicits a hitch in the smaller man's breathing.

God, he feels so good. Rick rocks his hips down onto Negan's, unbuttoning his shirt in the process. He wriggles the article off, and then tugs Negan's hands away from his body, pinning them over his head. He's got his forearms pressed into the mattress as he pushes his body flush against his partner's and rocks down slowly. He likes the way Negan's head falls back and he lets spill a slow, breathy moan.

"You're gonna need..." Negan manages, and Rick laughs against the skin of his neck.

"I know. Where's it at?"

"Am I that transparent?" Negan laughs. "My bag--front pocket."

"I just know you." Rick quips, before he hops off the bed. He digs around in said front pocket, and when he finds the tube he's looking for, tosses it onto the bed. He takes a moment to work open his pants, and then starts back toward where Negan has turned onto his side, awaiting him.

"Wait." The larger man requests, and Rick obeys on pure instinct. He stops at the edge of the bed, and watches as Negan scoots toward the edge. A shudder works its way up his spine as the older man presses a kiss just below his navel. Rick watches those dark eyes flicker up to look at him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

"I have some idea." Rick almost laughs, but Negan stops him short when he pulls his pants down. Rick's already half-hard, but when he sees the way the other man drinks in the sight of him, he quickly goes silent. He swallows down a moan when Negan takes his cock into his hand, and then it comes right back up when Negan's tongue flicks out to tease his shaft.

When Negan does something, he _does_ it. Rick admires his commitment, and always has. To his job, to Rick, to everything he does. It's apparently no different in moments like this. His tongue explores everywhere, along Rick's shaft, the underside, the tip...and when his tongue drags along the slit, Rick groans out loud. It's like he's almost instantly hard in Negan's grip, and when he sees the other man fumble with his free hand for the lube, his stomach flips with anticipation.

Negan backs away from his cock in favor of coating his fingers with the lube, before he's honing right back in on Rick. In a matter of seconds, he's back to sucking, while his fingers find their way to Rick's entrance. On instinct, Rick shifts his weight somewhat and then spreads his legs.

Negan is incredibly patient and gentle with his actions. He's bobbing slowly on Rick's cock as he's working to open Rick up for what's to come. He starts with one finger, and when Rick' stops tensing, works in the second. It's a little awkward at first, but either Negan's done a lot of studying on this or this isn't his first time, because he crooks his fingers after a minute or so and the sensation that follows has Rick's knees almost giving out on him.

"Negan--Negan, stop..." Rick moans, pushing the other man back. His cock is hard and flushed and oozing pre-come, even after Negan's mouth has left it. Had he let the other man continue much longer, he'd have probably finished before Negan could join in. And if he's going to come, he wants to do it with Negan buried inside of him.

So he pushes Negan back onto the bed and crawls atop him. He fumbles, vision hazed with near-painful arousal, for the lube, and when he finds it, goes straight to work coating Negan's cock. He takes a few moments to offer the other man a few unnecessary strokes (because apparently sucking Rick's dick is a huge turn-on for him, as he's full-mast already), and then settles himself over his partner's hips.

He smiles down at Negan as he lowers himself down onto his cock. A low moan escapes his lips and mingles with a matching one from Negan. There's no stopping the way Rick's eyes fall shut, because Negan fills him up just right, and by the time he has himself fully impaled on the other man's body, his face, neck, and shoulders are all flushed bright red.

"Fuck...Rick." Negan hisses. Rick likes the way he worships his hips and thighs with his hands, giving him time to adjust to his size. And then they break into slow movements.

And it's perfect. He and Negan move in unison. Negan thrusts up into Rick as he bears down onto his cock, and he gets to watch his partner come apart with every single movement. Negan's wanted this for so long, and Rick's about to see just how fucking good he looks while getting it.

"You...should see yourself right now." Rick praises, and Negan's eyes flutter open to meet the smaller man's.

"Excuse me?"

"You look so good, Negan...god, you feel good too..." Rick doesn't stop moving, and he finds it's significantly harder to fuck himself down on someone while talking.

"You too, baby." Negan responds in kind, and Rick likes the way he grips his hips with both hands as he speaks, digging his fingers in. "You look so fucking good. You like the way I'm fucking you right now?"

"Yeah." Rick nods, and he bears down particularly roughly to get the point across. "Don't stop."

"Fuck yeah...that's what I like to hear." Negan uses the newfound grip on Rick's hips to thrust up a certain way--a way that hits that very same spot his fingers did earlier, except _harder_. Negan's dick against that spot has Rick seeing stars instantly, and he outright stops moving from the suddenness and shock of it all.

"... _Whoa_." Rick gasps. He looks down at Negan just in time to see a wide smirk.

"You like that?" The larger man questions, licking his lips. "Want it again?"

Rick's breath catches in his throat, before he nods. "God, yes."

"What's my name, Rick?"

Rick knows he should probably be embarrassed, but he can't bring himself to be. Instead, he just glances back down at his partner, clears the catch in his throat, and answers. "Negan."

Negan resumes his thrusts slowly, and then rolls his hips that way again, tearing another harsh moan from Rick's lips. "I'm sorry, baby--you're gonna have to speak up. I didn't hear you. What was that?"

"N..Negan." Rick grunts. "Fuck...Negan..."

"...'Atta boy." The smirk on Negan's lips looks almost sinister, before he picks up the pace, and Rick notices that damn near every thrust hits that spot at this point.

Silence is gone by now. Rick's practically howling Negan's name, and Negan's panting out Rick's. They can't manage much more, as they've devolved into a series of erratic movements, Rick's back arching as he fucks himself on Negan's cock, and Negan's fingers stammering against the sweaty skin of Rick's thighs.

"Fuck, you feel so good..." Negan hisses, teeth bared. "Fuck, Rick...I'm close."

Rick is too, but he doesn't say that. He somehow manages a feeble grin downward at the other man, before he clenches his muscles, tightening himself around Negan. The moan that follows afterward just about finishes him off, but it's really Negan's orgasm that does it. Heat, friction, and just the way the larger man feels within him pushes him right over the edge a few thrusts later, and the next thing Rick knows, he and Negan are both spent, panting, Rick still impaled on the other man's softening erection.

Rick finally pulls off after a few seconds though, and when he does, he collapses on his back on the bed next to Negan. He's struggling to catch his breath as Negan rolls over and covers his mouth with his own. And even though Rick's lungs are burning for air, he can't help but kiss back. His hand finds Negan's cheek and he leans up into it.

It's like this is commonplace. They slip into routine so flawlessly. Negan helps Rick get cleaned up, and then cleans himself up, and then they're in bed, slipping beneath the sheets, arms curled tightly around one another.

"I love you so much." Rick whispers, right before sleep is about to take him. Negan's eyes are closed, but he sees the other man's lips curl into a grin.

"Love you too. Go to fucking sleep."

And they've got three more nights of this after tonight. Three more nights of Judith's bubbly excitement for the beach and the restaurant. Of Carl teasing Negan and Negan teasing Carl. Of watching his family come together as just that. Card games, swimming, boat rides--there's so much, and Rick's looking forward to every minute of it.

He thinks Carl's going to shit himself when he realizes Negan basically popped the question, but then remembers when the teenager had told him that he was sworn to secrecy. Instantly, he's flattered that Negan went to Carl about it before anything.

It really can't get much better than this.

 


	10. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by weinsanedreamer55 on Tumblr: "yo idk if you're flooded with requests and stuff but if you could can I request a short ficlet with regan first date. Something with rick being all shy and adorable and negan teasing the ever loving shit out of him at his expense"
> 
> For some reason, this screamed high school AU at me.

“Come the fuck on, Rick, it’s just a flavor.” 

In Rick’s defense, there are a  _lot_  of different flavors. The ice cream shop may be small, but when it’s got everything from potato chip-and-chocolate to birthday cake flavored ice cream, of course Rick’s going to spend some time debating on what the best choice is. He never knows when he’s going to get to come here again, after all.

Even the cashier looks mildly irritated with him. He’s staring down over a long nose at one high school senior Rick Grimes like he’s got better things to do with his time, and Rick balks at the thought of speeding up for him. 

“You pick one, then?” Rick tries, turning his focus to Negan. 

Negan is everything Rick’s parents don’t want in their son’s love life. A smoker, clad in a leather jacket with a smug look almost always plastered on his face. He’s attending his second year of college on a baseball scholarship, though he bitches all the time about wanting to get out. He and Rick met at the local recreational center, when Shane decided Rick needed to come and give the batting cages a shot.

Like the flowery love-at-first-sight scene in any cheesy movie, Rick had spotted Negan there, and he’d been unable to avoid staring. The guy was everything he admired. He had his shoulders held high, and he swung like the cocky bastard he was. He was proud of himself and knew he was talented, and it was as if everywhere from his hair follicles to his pores exuded liquid confidence. Dark hair, olive-tinted skin that brought out the hazel in his eyes, a smarmy grin…Rick hadn’t been able to look away.

And Negan had noticed. Of _course,_ he had. He’d finished his last round of swings, before stepping out of the cages, and locked eyes with Rick, who had been watching him from the doorway to the gym. Negan’s hair had at one point been slicked back, but a good portion of the strands now hung over his forehead and on the sides of his face from the effort he’d put forth while batting.

He’d stuck to Rick like glue that day, barking at him like a coach while he and Shane ran laps, chattering with him in the shower stall next to him, constantly making jabs at how pretty Rick’s blue eyes were.

It’d been a slippery slope, gaining a crush on this guy. One minute, Rick had thought Negan was mesmerizing and hadn’t been able to stop looking at him. The next, they were hanging out outside of the recreational center, and Rick was learning that Negan was more than a little vulgar, a natural flirt, and very interested in getting to know his new friend.

How that had turned into Negan asking Rick for a date was beyond him.

But here he is, weighing his options between too many different flavors of ice cream for this to be considered legal. Rick knows his parents would shit themselves twice over if they knew he was on a date with anyone right now, let alone Negan, but in his defense, he’s officially eighteen, so they’re just gonna have to deal for now.

Just because Negan looks like your textbook Bad Boy™ doesn’t mean he’s going to destroy Rick’s life. And this is just one date.

One date Rick’s admittedly more than a little nervous about. He’s plenty comfortable with his sexuality, so knowing what kind of anatomy Negan has is no big scare to him. It’s just that…god, what if he’s boring? Negan’s always talking like he’s this big badass, while Rick’s still in high school and very much dedicated to his studies. He won’t be in Georgia forever either, with college on the horizon.

But even if this is the _only_ date, Rick wants to make a good impression. He wants to be the interesting guy Negan seems to have been drawn to. He doesn’t want to hear the fucker say in his all-too-blunt way just how unexciting Rick is.

And hell, maybe there’s a little desire for self-validation in the equation, too. As a senior in high school, Rick has been putting a lot of focus into his grades and his classes. But he knows that isn’t all he is, and he kind of wants others to know that, too. Running with Shane on the day he’d met Negan had been an escape from those studies, and from the frightening mentality of getting lost in them.

This date is no different. An escape. With a dangerously attractive, intimidatingly confident man like Negan.

And Rick is a nervous wreck.

“You know,” Negan breaks the roaring of Rick’s thoughts as he steps forward, moving to stand next to his date, “you’d think in suggesting ice cream for a date, you’d know what kind of ice cream you want. Gonna go with…fuckin’…the kind with the cinnamon chips in it.”

Rick gawks at Negan like something’s started sprouting atop his head. “Not cinnamon. That’s reserved for gum and toothpaste.”

Negan just raises an eyebrow and puts his focus back on the menu. “…Alright, what about mint chocolate chip?”

“Still sounds like toothpaste.”

“The fuck are you asking me to pick for, then?” Negan snorts. “Look, if you plan on catching a movie after this, you gotta figure something out.”

“Birthday cake, then.” Rick’s cheeks flush a little. “Just one scoop.”

“And I’ll take one scoop of each of the toothpaste flavors,” Negan adds.

“That sounds awful,” Rick thinks aloud as they walk out of the shop, their ice cream cones in hand. The theater is a good five or six blocks from the shop, so they’ve mutually decided a walk there would give them just enough time to finish their ice cream before they bought their tickets.

“Have you ever tried either of these flavors?” Negan retorts simply.

“Well, no, but—” Rick can feel his face growing hot again.

“Then ye shall pass no fuckin’ judgment, Rick.” At that, Negan takes a large bite of his top scoop—the mint chocolate.

A few seconds later, he’s practically doubled over, bitching about how cold that shit is on his teeth. Rick can’t help but laugh, even though he’s suddenly very conscious of the way he eats his own ice cream. Which tastes delicious, by the way.

Negan recovers quickly, at least. Soon enough, he’s back upright and clearing his throat. He’s just about to speak, when he glances over at Rick. He mocks offense, and then motions with his free hand for Rick to come closer.

“Walk beside me, damn it,” Negan instructs. “This is a date, not a casual stroll.”

Having not realized the distance between the two of them, even Rick looks genuinely surprised, before he obeys. He stops a foot or so apart from Negan, before he’s met with the calmest of smiles and an arm around his shoulders. Rick looks up just in time to see Negan lick ice cream from his upper lip.

“Relax, baby,” He urges, and despite how sleazy the statement has the potential to be, Rick’s oddly reassured by it. “If you’re uncomfortable, I fucking get it, okay? You just gotta tell me and I’ll back off. But so long as you’re kosher with this here one-armed embrace, I’d like to keep it up.”

Of course Rick’s comfortable with it. He’s all but melting like warm putty into it. It’s the kind of pleasant, semi-conscious feeling that makes you wonder if you took a Benadryl before leaving the house that morning, but it also makes Rick so nervous that he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. And the worst part is, unless they want to talk about school, Rick doesn’t have anything interesting to say. So he’s stuck, tight-lipped when his mouth isn’t full of cake-flavored ice cream, and waiting for something to happen.

“Wait a minute…” Negan’s voice sounds genuinely shocked, so Rick can’t help but look up at him again. Shock quickly gives way to amusement, however, and before even knowing what Negan’s going to say, Rick flushes a bright red. “Is this your first actual _date_?”

In Rick’s defense, his parents are the type of parents that don’t want their child dating until he’s graduated. They’re not so much conservative as they are focused on his education. And Rick hasn’t exactly told Negan that his parents have no idea where he is right now, so there’s that as well.

“Well—”

“Oh my god, Rick, that’s fucking amazing. You don’t know what to do with yourself right now, do you?” Without warning, Negan ruffles the hair atop his date’s head, and then tightens his grip on his shoulders. “God, you’re adorable as all fuck. But not to worry, Ricky—I’ll make this your best first date ever.”

Rick manages to choke out a nervous, “That doesn’t make any sense, Negan”, before he’s ushered along and into the theater.

As it turns out, smarmy asshole or not, Negan is quite the gentleman. He’s respectful of Rick’s boundaries in the way that once they’re in the darkness of the theater and facing the giant movie screen, he asks permission to do anything. At one point, he’s got an arm wrapped around Rick’s shoulders, but after a while, he takes Rick’s hand into his, and he waits for Rick to respond before he laces their fingers. It’s Rick who folds the armrest up and slumps against him, and Rick who nuzzles his shoulder appreciatively.

Rick doesn’t know what Negan likes about him other than the blue eyes the guy can’t stop praising, but he’ll take what he can get.

By the time they leave the theater, the sun has set. They’re walking, hand-in-hand, back toward the parking lot for the ice cream shop, where both their cars await them. It’s not cold, but Rick doesn’t complain when Negan throws his jacket over his partner’s shoulders. Rick’s been afraid this entire time to talk about school, since he was worried about being uninteresting, but when Negan asks him what he’s going to go to college for, he opens right up. Their entire discussion is about school, clear up until they’re standing in between one another’s vehicles, ready to say their goodbyes.

Rick doesn’t know what to say next. He faces Negan, and then opens and closes his mouth, lips dancing around Awkward Goodnight A and Awkward Goodnight B, and maybe the thought to suggest they go on another date soon.

“Hey,” Negan interrupts Rick’s fishlike gestures, and frankly, he’s happy to look up at the taller man at this point. He’s met with a patient smile and half-lidded hazel eyes that seem to glow even out here in the darkness.

“Sorry, I was just thinkin’ about how we should—”

“Go on another date?” Negan chuckles, then takes Rick’s hand into his own between them. Rick glances down at their intertwined fingers, swallowing nervously, before he turns his gaze back up and nods slowly. “I kind of figured that much was fucking obvious. I like you, Rick. You’ve got one hell of a staring problem, but we can work on that. Now…”

Out of the blue, Negan suddenly looks way less confident. He clears his throat, though his eyes never leave Rick’s. “I’m just gonna venture a guess that if this is your first date, you’ve never had your first kiss.”

Oh shit. Nope, Rick hasn’t done any of that. And as much as he wouldn’t mind getting it right here and right now, he doesn’t even know what he’s _doing_. And Negan most definitely does. There’s no way he knows what he’s doing so well with the rest of the date that he wouldn’t have gotten to lock lips a time or two.

“I haven’t,” Rick finally admits.

Negan nibbles at his lower lip for a moment, as if in thought, before he speaks up again. “It’d be a damn fucking honor to be the one to give it to you.”

Rick melts. He feels his grip on Negan’s hand going slack, and his shoulders slumping, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s nodding up at Negan.

And god, does it feel good. Negan’s got his free hand on the side of Rick’s face as he moves in slowly, cautiously, and then it’s just a gentle press of lips on lips. A sweet gesture, with some chaste hesitation. Almost a brush of the lips, leaving Rick wanting more.

Negan pulls back just enough that he can look Rick in the eyes. Rick sees those warm hazel eyes searching him for a reaction, but he’s beyond words right now. So instead of speaking, he just closes his own eyes, tips his head, and invites Negan in for another.

It’s slow and soft and sweet, even when their lips part and the kiss deepens. By the time they pull away, Rick’s hands are shaking, arms around Negan’s neck. He laughs, resting his head on Negan’s chest.

“You still somehow taste like cinnamon.”


End file.
